Unbound
by Jaded Nerevarine
Summary: When Spike's dreams take a darker turn, and nightmares are revealed as ancient memories, he finds he must overcome his own past to save the world from an evil that refuses to stay buried.  Black wings unfurl over Equestria.
1. Alduin's Fate

_I had a dream, which was not all a dream._

_The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars_

_did wander darkling in the eternal space._

_Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth_

_swung blind and blackening in the moonless air._

_Lord Byron- Darkness_

* * *

><p>It felt as though he was floating. His limbs, his body, every fiber of his being seemed weightless and unburdened. He tried to stand, only for his legs to kick and strain without purchase. His wings unfurled, beating powerfully as he struggled to take flight. Something was holding him back. The very air seemed thick and heavy, and the strokes of his wings brought no movement.<p>

The dragon stilled as the unfamiliar sensation of fear crept into his stomach. What had happened? Where was he?

Two serpentine eyes cracked open, pupils dilated as they peered into the gloom. He blinked rapidly, waiting, then willing, then demanding them to adjust. The darkness remained absolute. Frustrated, he stretched open his jaws and spoke.

"Yol… Toor… Shul!"

His words were accompanied by a jet of white-hot flames that burst from his mouth. His vision was dazzled, and it was all he could do not to slam his eyes shut to ward off the glare. What he saw made him freeze in disbelief.

The fire brought no illumination. It cut into the darkness as though it were puncturing a physical barrier, only for the blackness to coil inwards and snuff it out of existence. There was nothing out there.

Dread crept into his thoughts, and he twisted his body to the side before launching another shot of fire into the unknown.

Nothing.

His neck curved and spun, his jaws belching flame in every direction. In every case, the same. The flames met the darkness, and the darkness consumed them. A lightless abyss stretched out before him, and he was alone.

His mind raced. Where was he? How did he come to be trapped here? The darkness pressed inwards, and it seemed that now he was no longer floating, but held firmly in place. A fixed point in a sea of emptiness. Empty… The Void! His eyes widened, and dread turned to despair. If he was indeed correct, than he had been forced from the physical universe. Beyond Nirn, beyond Oblivion, set adrift in a timeless vacuum where only the primal essences of stasis and turmoil dwelt.

But how? His head pounded, his breaths came quick and shallow as he tried to remember.

.

..

…

His wings flapping as he soared upwards through cold air.

A mountain, among the highest in the world.

A shout that tore at his very essence, forcing him to the ground.

A traitorous brother, his voice still ringing with the treachery of past centuries.

A dishonorable retreat.

Sovngarde.

The Dovahkiin…

His head snapped back, realization and hatred overpowering his thoughts. Dead. Slain by a wretch of a mortal, one aided by his own unfaithful brethren! His maw wrenched open, a ragged scream tearing from his throat, only for his voice to sound out flatly in the emptiness. Anger coursed through his blood as he remembered his defeat, his betrayal, his death! Mindlessly he raged, clawing and snapping and screaming into the dark as he cursed the world that had felled him.

The darkness thickened, as though trying to resist his movements, and he thrashed all the harder. For a time the dark and quiet of The Void was filled with roars and the light of fire, but then the dragon stilled, and his struggles ceased. His anger burnt down into a cinder of bitter regret, he slumped into the embrace of the shadows and let them carry him away.

He was unsure how long he hung in the blackness, his mind wandering where his body could not. He seemed to teeter between memory and illusion, and in his brief moments of clarity he thought of Numinex, the dragon whose mind and soul were broken by long years of captivity.

Was that to be his fate? To linger here until his soul had dwindled to a mere husk, devoid of memory, of thought, of spirit? An ironic fate, for one whose goal was the utter destruction of existence. In such a light, he mused, perhaps he was justly punished.

"**An admission of guilt. Far from repentance… but perhaps it is enough."**

Simply hearing a sound not of his own making was a tremendous shock. Hearing a voice booming out through the shadows like a thunderclap was a surprise akin to standing atop a suddenly erupting volcano.

The dragon let out an extremely undignified squawk as he flailed about, head swiveling in all directions to try and locate the speaker.

"Who speaks," he roared. His mania and lethargy were swept away, and he could all but feel his blood boil at the thought of a potential escape… or an enemy to gut.

A deep chuckle rolled over him, and he could swear he felt a hot breath against his scales.

"**As aggressive and demanding as ever. For all your boasts, you are still but a Kiir, barely out of your egg."**

"Mu Dahmaan Hin Zul," he spoke with a repressed snarl. "So then, come to chide your wayward son? Or perhaps you feel I deserve further suffering? Have you not punished me enough?"

"**ENOUGH!" **The sheer force of the voice sent painful echoes ringing through his skull. **"Do not presume to cast blame for the price of your own folly!" **

The dragon paused, an angry retort hanging on his lips. What did he hope to prove that he would risk shunning the only company he might ever again receive? Was his pride truly so valuable?

"My apologies. Tell me then, how did I damn myself?"

The voice was silent for a moment, perhaps surprised that his demeanor had changed. When it spoke again, it sounded content, as though a personal victory had been won.

"**You perished in Sovngarde, a realm meant for the afterlife of mortals. When slain, the presence of your soul breached a threshold the realm could not contain. The Dovahkiin could not consume you, and neither could the plane sustain you. And so you were cast into The Void."**

He knew that he should choose his next words carefully. His father may not have sent him here, but there was no guarantee he would be released either.

"Can I escape," he voiced hesitantly.

"**The way you came? No," **the voice stated thoughtfully. **"An unbound soul such as yours is too powerful to return to Aetherius, and the mortal world cannot be reached but through it."**

"Then there is no hope?"

"**Not here. But elsewhere… perhaps. There are other worlds than this, so far removed that even the divine can scarcely glean them. If your soul was ferried there, you would be reborn."**

His brow furrowed in disbelief. "And you would permit this? It seems a foolish act when the soul in question is that of a world-ender. Why do this for me?"

"**Even the blackest of hearts are worthy of redemption, especially those with a purpose to serve."**

His eyes narrowed into slits. "I was fulfilling my damned purpose when I was slain by that mortal vermin of yours!"

"**That purpose had become corrupt, twisted to serve your own wicked desires." **The voice's tone was soft and low, as though in mourning. **"You were meant to bring a merciful end to a suffering world, to be a shepherd of souls and harbinger of the next creation. My greatest pride, and a god in your own right."**

"I became that god," he challenged.

"**YOU BECAME A DEMON! You chose dominion over servitude, terror over love! You slew those you were meant to protect, ravaged the lands you were destined to safeguard, and devoured the souls you were entrusted to save! You cast away your divinity and sustained yourself on the essence of the dead! Zok Krosis: my greatest shame…"**

He grit his teeth in the wake of his Akatosh's scorn. Was it true? Was that all he had done, all that he was a mockery and a sin?

"How would you have me repent," he hissed.

"**You will be humbled," **the voice intoned, **"by embodying the virtues that you once scorned. In your past, you brought fear and pain upon those weaker than yourself. You demanded service and loyalty, and you cared nothing for those beneath your station. In this new world, it will be you who serves others. You will toil and labor unceasingly, and will offer and lend your aid to any in need. You will be selfless and loyal, and you will care for others above yourself. Endure this sentence, and your godhood will be restored."**

Were he not in so precarious a situation, and was the speaker not the god of time itself, he would have bellowed laughter into their faces. The very idea was ridiculous! Him, the eater of souls, the scourge of the world, forced into servitude at the whims of mortals?

But the facts remained. He was still dead, and still trapped. Though it galled him to admit, he had no other choice. Besides, a life in service of lesser beings could surely be no worse than an eternity of nothingness.

"I accept," he conceded.

A low rumble was his only response, and for a time, he believed that Akatosh had simply bolstered his hopes before abandoning him once again. Those thoughts ended when he was overcome by a feeling of constriction, as if he was being crumpled inwards. His limbs jammed up against his torso, his wings snapped shut against his back, and his neck was forced to curl downwards and bunch painfully against his chest. Still the pressure built, and he tried to cry out, but he could not make a sound. It felt like he was shrinking, the pressure crushing him down to nothing.

His thoughts were becoming muddled by the pain, his body shrieking in agony. Still he heard the voice; kind, patient, the voice of the father he had long ago spurned.

"**Praan Nu, your new life awaits."**

A chill wrapped around him, and his body shivered at its touch. The great dragon fell limp as consciousness left him, and he knew no more.

Akatosh hung motionless in The Void, a claw wrapped protectively around what had once been his firstborn son. The dragon's soul pulsed and shook, seemingly impatient to begin its next journey. With care, he wrapped the soul in an unbreakable shell, one that even the greatest force could never mar. The god looked out across the darkened gulf to worlds beyond. So many places, so many possibilities. He stopped, his eyes fixed on a likely candidate.

Perfect.

Staunch in his choice, he affixed the soul to his bow. As he had done in ages past with Lorkhan's Heart, he drew back and let fly. A beam of light shot out into the black, and Alduin vanished from his sight.

* * *

><p>"And… been forced… reschedule… tomorrow's meeting…unexpected…"<p>

Celestia's head drooped as she fought to stay awake in the face of royalty's ultimate enemy: tedious meetings!

"New batch… division… terrible recruits… no sense of discipline… heads will roll…"

She barely even noticed when one speaker finished and another began. Casting a quick glance out the window, she idly wondered how stealthily she could advance the sun. Perhaps just a few hours wouldn't hurt?

The princess was startled into alertness when a blazing pinpoint of light appeared in the eastern sky. Ignoring her startled counselors, she galloped to the window, watching in shock as the light increased, its glare surpassing that of her own sun. The others soon joined her, staring up into the heavens as the light moved overhead.

"Is it a shooting star," one of the ponies asked.

Celestia made no response. Her eyes widened in horror as the object drew closer.

"No," she gasped. "A falling star."

They all watched as the light grew brighter, a plume of smoke beginning to trail away from its center. No time to warn the kingdom. No time to evacuate or prepare, only to watch and hope that it fell clear of any habitation.

Across Equestria, ponies stopped and looked to the sky in amazement. The tiny light had become a fireball, trailing smoke and dust as it sped silently across the heavens.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly it descended, and the massive layer of ice and debris that had joined it on its voyage from the stars started to crack.

It smashed through the atmosphere at thirty miles a second, its speed plummeting as it cut a swath through air and clouds.

It was streaking above Manehattan when the crust began to disintegrate. The following concussions were tremendous; a series of deafening booms cracked the sky as onlookers fell to the ground, hooves pressed to their bleeding ears.

The distance was rapidly closing between it and the earth, and its destination was quickly approaching. Only a few short miles above the ground, it barreled over Canterlot and towards Ponyville.

"It's cleared us!" One stallion's voice broke out over the noise. "Passing the village now! It might clear the mountains! Go, damn you! Go!"

"Go!" Another cheered out, as if urging the fiery missile onward. "Go, go go."

"Go," Celestia breathed as she squeezed her eyes shut.

It vanished from sight, and they heard a soft humming like a massive swarm of bees in the distance.

A pony gulped. "Is it dow-"

There was a brilliant, blinding flash like a thousand bolts of lightning striking at the same instant. A deafening roar split through the air, as if the very earth was being rent apart. The castle shuddered, heaving so violently that the assembled ponies were knocked to the floor. Dust and shards of rock fell from the ceiling as a thin jigsaw of cracks cut through the stone. The floors and walls shook, furniture and loose items sent crashing to the ground. Glass showered over them as every window in range of the shockwave was blown inwards.

There was one more tremor, and a hot and stifling wind swept through the room. Then, all was still.

Celestia pushed herself up, her hooves unsteady. Her mane was stained grey with dust, her coat scuffed and cut. She was battered and dazed, but she was alive, and the castle was standing.

"Is everyone alright?" She called out, trying to blink away the blue-white glare that still covered her vision. There was the sound of coughing, a muffled sob, but soon voices arose confirming their safety.

Celestia shook the dust from her mane. It was over. But she knew that there would be injuries and panic among her subjects. If the shockwave had caused such damage to her castle, then there would be a great many repairs to attend to in Canterlot itself.

She looked out to the mountains, her stomach clenching at the sight of a dark, mushroom shaped cloud towering overhead. And what of the rest of the kingdom? How had they fared?

A guardsman raced into the room, his armour scuffed and a stream of blood running from his forehead.

"Princess! Are you alright," he asked, looking as though he was struggling to remain upright.

"I am fine, Captain," she responded, her mind still focused on damage control. "Assemble the guard and dispatch them immediately into the city. First priority is the safety of its citizens. Medical attention and evacuation from hazardous areas. Take special caution with damaged houses, ensure that they are clear of wounded before moving on. Once the populace has been seen to, we will move on to repairs."

"Yes, Princess. Have you any further orders?"

She paused. "Who are your greatest fliers, both in speed and endurance?"

"That would be the Duskwing squadron, your majesty."

"Excellent," Celestia said. "Each member will be deployed to visit and inspect cities throughout the kingdom to ascertain the damages sustained, as well as what aid will be needed. I trust their commander can best determine where each is to be sent."

"It will be done." The stallion bowed quickly and turned to leave.

The princess sighed as she looked around the disorder that had once been her throne room.

"When I hoped for an early end to the meeting," she grumbled. "This was NOT what I had in mind."

The moon shone overhead, barely illuminating the broken remains of a mountain forest. Miles of trees had been torn from the ground, flattened and leveled as the wave of supersonic force had smashed through them.

Celestia looked out from the crater's rim, her eyes roaming over shattered wood and jagged stumps. In one terrible instant, the woodland had been turned into a wasteland. If it had been just a few miles short… if it had impacted on Ponyville…

She banished the thought from her head. Her subjects were safe. The disaster was over. The crater was a stark reminder of that. All that remained was to see it for herself.

She gazed into the depression. It was strange how perfect it seemed. Round and smooth, a stark contrast to the ruin that lay around it.

Nothing moved. The crater was as dark and silent as the forest. An indulgent chuckle escaped her lips. What had she expected? Inwardly chiding herself, she prepared to depart. Then she felt it.

It began as a mere tickle in the back of her mind, like a persistent thought that refuses to be forgotten. It was the presence of magic, and it called out to her.

Celestia turned back to the crater. Could it be? Was there truly something down there? The presence faltered, its strength guttering like a candle in a breeze. Yes. It was faint, it was unfocused, but it was there!

Her horn glowed, and the smell of ozone filled the air. The crater's floor began to crack as fused and melted rock was broken free. The debris swept upwards, a small tornado of rock forming as Celestia dug further. The magical presence was strengthening! She had almost freed it. Her pace slowed, dirt and rock were gently brushed aside and lifted away. Her eyes swept back and forth, looking for something. Anything.

Her efforts were rewarded by a sudden dash of color amidst the rock. She immediately focused on the spot, her magic honing in on the object's supernatural nature. Freeing it from the enclosure of rock, she levitated it up and into view.

"An… egg," she whispered in disbelief. It was purple, covered in spots, and too large to belong to any but a single creature. "A dragon's egg."

Celestia examined it closely, her magic rotating it slowly in the air. It seemed to have been laid some time ago, though why it had not hatched was a mystery to her. A pang of sorrow bloomed in her chest as she thought of the family that this egg surely belonged to. Where were the parents, or any siblings?

The answer, terrible as it was, seemed obvious. They had perished in the impact of the falling star. Only this egg, by chance or fate, had been spared. But how? Such a force that could level forests and burn wood to cinders should have claimed this egg as well.

The princess had no answer to that. She only knew that the egg would not survive if left by itself. She had discovered it, and so she would see to its care. Levitating it carefully upon her back, she and her new charge began the journey home.

And though she had no idea why, she had a feeling that what resided in the egg would have a very important role to play in Equestria's future.

* * *

><p>Draconic translations-<p>

Yol Toor Shul- Fire, Inferno, Sun. (The shout used to breathe fire.)

Kiir- Child

Mu Dahmaan Hin Zul- We remember your voice

Ko Krosis- In sorrow

Praan Nu- Rest now

* * *

><p>My first attempt at fanfiction. Hopefully it wasn't too meager an attempt. I'm not entirely sure how much overlap is required for a story to be deemed a crossover, so hopefully I'm not screwing up by not posting it as such. All feedback is welcomed!<p> 


	2. Celestia's Decision

Celestia's Decision

_This world, where much is to be done, and little to be known-_

_Samuel Johnson_

* * *

><p>The bedroom was dark and quiet; the candles sat unlit, and the fireplace ashes lay cold and unstirred. The windows were closed and latched against the evening's chill, translucent curtains admitting only the softest vestiges of moonlight. The only sound came from a clock hanging upon the wall, though another noise slowly but steadily joined it.<p>

The flapping of wings through the air.

A shadow moved across the floor as something glided past the window, its form growing as it drew nearer. It swept down to the balcony, its momentum slowing to a hover. It alighted with the click of hooves on stone, and it turned to the door, wings folding to the sides.

There was a brief flash of light, and the door's latch glowed, unlocking with a soft click. The handle turned, and the door swung open to reveal an alicorn, her cargo nestled protectively on her back. To somepony watching, it would be more than enough to make them believe in the old foal's tale explaining where babies came from.

This irony was not lost on Celestia, who recited the lines to herself in amusement.

"And when the mother and father wish for a child of their own, they voice their request to the princess, who sees it as a shooting star in the sky above. She then gathers her magic and ascends into the heavens. The position of the sun and moon determine what the infant shall be; an abundance of solar magic will give life to a colt, while lunar energy creates a filly. And so the princess sends forth her magic to bond with the sunlight or moonbeams, forming the new life out of her own love and power. Sometimes she chooses to bestow an aspect of her own form upon them, and the foal is born with wings or a horn."

Inwardly smiling, Celestia stepped into the room, softly closing the door behind her. The egg levitated from her back and came to a rest on her bed.

"Once the princess is satisfied with her work, she places the infant upon her back and descends once more to Equestria," she continued. "She glides silently through the night, unseen or heard by anypony. Coming to the home of the new parents, she delivers the foal to their bed, placing a blessing upon them. From that moment, the child is theirs, and they are tied together as a family. Her task completed, the princess departs once again…"

Celestia trailed off, a slight hitch in her voice. Yes, the parallels were almost uncanny between that story and the position she now occupied. The differences that existed, however, were extreme. The shooting star that heralded this one's arrival was not a hopeful omen, but a missile of death. She had not pieced this infant together out of sunshine and magic, but had plucked it from a graveyard of shattered trees and melted rock.

"And there are no parents who await your arrival," she finished. "So to whom do I deliver you?"

There certainly weren't many options. She immediately disregarded the option of sending it off to other dragons. While her kingdom was at peace with the draconic nation of Uruloki, she was not particularly keen on simply handing her new charge over, especially without knowing how they dealt with abandoned or orphaned eggs.

Raising it in Equestria was similarly difficult. Dragons, by and large, were not a common sight amongst ponies, and their reputation throughout was dubious at best. She had no doubt that an adoptive family could be found for the hatchling, but simple parental love and attention was not going to be enough.

The more she thought about it, the more Celestia realized that this was a problem that needed to be approached rationally, and she certainly wasn't going to solve it sitting in the dark. A quick burst of magic saw to that; candles lit, the fireplace blazed, and a scroll unfurled on her desk, a writing quill levitating above it. Perfect. The room was lit, heated, and she was ready to begin. Positioning herself at the usual spot, she began to pace.

She trod a slow, circular path about the room, mentally listing off the various criteria that a candidate would need to meet if this egg were to be entrusted to their care. The first, obviously, would be a suitable attitude towards dragonkind.

"They would have to possess a measure of impartiality," she mused, a quill telekinetically recording her thoughts. "As well as some practical knowledge or interest on the subject. Somepony who knows about dragons as dragons, not simply as campfire stories about filly sacrifices and destructive rampages."

The next matter was that of the candidate's location, but as she began to consider locations, she quickly realized that viable options were sparse. Now, Celestia prided herself on being a mare of tolerance and open-mindedness, and she certainly wasn't going to judge a pony simply because of where they chose to reside. However, there were some cities throughout Equestria in which she would not allow this dragon to be raised. As far as she was concerned, it deserved to have a happy, normal upbringing, not be hatched in someplace like Manehattan where it would be viewed as little more than an exotic pet. The very idea set her teeth on edge. Well, to hay with that!

She was shaken out of her musings by the dry, snapping sound of a quill breaking at the tip. Turning to her notes, she was embarrassed to see that her usually tidy writing had undergone a small change. The prospective list of cities had become a mess of jagged lines and angrily scratched out names, with the point of her quill embedded into the wood beneath the scroll.

Clearing her throat, she replaced the quill, sopped up the spilled ink, mentally apologized to her internal stenographer, and continued. And so the night marched on, accompanied by soft dictation, the scraping of a quill on parchment, and the hoofsteps of a princess as she paced a rut into the floor.

* * *

><p>Hours later, clocks began to chime in the city, and ponies everywhere awoke to prepare for the new day. Birds chirped in the early morning stillness, and the first light of dawn peeked over the horizon as the sun began its daily journey through the sky.<p>

Or at least, it would have, if the deity in charge of raising said object was not slumped over her desk, snoring.

Somewhere in the distance came the muffled, yet shrill crow of a rooster, determined not to falter in its usual routine despite such astronomical calamities as a stalled sun. The noise was enough to wake the princess, who blearily opened her eyes and sat upright, a scroll stuck to the side of her face. She pulled the object away, unmindful of the ink stains it had left on her muzzle, and looked around in confusion. A few seconds passed before she realized what time it was and what she was supposed to be doing, and she leapt up in alertness and responded to the situation with the calm dignity for which she was known.

"OH, MANURE," She yelled as she galloped for the balcony, foregoing the time-consuming process of opening the door in favor of simply blasting it off its hinges. The otherwise calm morning was interrupted when a flash of light and the sound of shattering wood accompanied the sun goddess' rushed exit from the castle. Luckily, the sun was raised without any further mishap, and the day proceeded uneventfully, except for one unfortunate noblemare who was showered with wood and other door wreckage and came to believe that the sky was falling.

By the time Celestia returned to her quarters, the sun had already been set. Her normally regal trot had relegated into a slow, tired shuffle, and it was all she could do to keep from simply levitating herself down the hallway. She hadn't slept in thirty-eight hours, had overseen repair efforts throughout Canterlot, met with spokesponies from several affected communities, and they hadn't even scratched the surface of the work still to do. At one point she had even entertained the idea of banishing HERSELF to the moon, simply for some peace, quiet, and a decade or two of relaxation. Alas, personal responsibility and duty to her kingdom were too deeply ingrained for her to ever follow through with such fantasies.

Her room was just as she left it, though the candles and fireplace had long since burnt out and the writing near the bottom of her scroll was noticeably smeared. There was also the small matter of the gaping hole that opened out to her balcony. With a sigh, she stumbled over to her desk, levitating the scroll to eye-level.

Biting back a yawn, she glanced over the scroll, occasionally managing to recognize a word as her eyelids began to droop.

"Ideal… Canterlot… parents should… education… no siblings…"

With a final yawn, Celestia's head dropped onto the scroll that it had been occupying that very morning. She was on the verge of falling into a very well deserved slumber when a series of knocks came from the door.

"No… too early," she mumbled into the parchment. To her relief, the knocking soon ended, although it was replaced by the creak of a door swinging open and tentative hoofsteps into the room.

"Your majesty?"

She wearily lifted her head from the desk, meeting the gaze of a yellow colored pegasus in a maid's apron.

Her eyes moved to the glittering ribbon that served as the pony's cutie mark, and her mind stirred back into some measure of alertness.

"Hello, Silver Bow. What brings you here at such an hour?"

The mare lowered her head, knees shaking. "Begging milady's pardon, bu… but I was sent to ensure that you retired to bed at an appropriate hour. Um… you see after yesterday's disaster, an... and then the late dawn this morning, your advisors thought that another delayed sunrise might… worry the populace.

As tired as she was, Celestia couldn't hold back the amused snort that erupted from her throat. "Sound reasoning, though I doubt that is the exact message they gave you, is it not?"

Silver Bow dropped her head, an embarrassed blush painting her cheeks. "No doubt they feared that any further irresponsibility on my part would plunge the kingdom into anarchy!" The maid kept silent, although Celestia noticed that her mouth was twitching up into a smile.

"What did they rant about this time," she asked. "Riots in the streets? The collapse of civilization? The dead rising from the grave? A cheese embargo?"

"Well… actually, they claimed it would be viewed as signs of the world ending," Silver Bow giggled.

The two mares shared a laugh as Celestia collapsed onto her bed. "Well, I thank and congratulate you for staving off an impending apocalypse. You may go about your duties assured that your princess will be adhering to her normal bedtime."

"Very well milady. And… if it's alright with you… might I also be so bold as to request a replacement door for your balcony?"

"I think… that would be for the best,"

"As you wish. Pleasant dreams your highness."

"Mmhmm," she mumbled, sinking into the warm comfort of her bed. She had begun to doze off even before her head touched the pillows. Nothing more for the night but a nice… long… slee-

"Oh, milady! What's this on your bed?"

"Wuz… wha?"

"This purple, this thing at the foot of your bed. It looks like an egg! Is it an egg?" Somehow, the very sight of it had transformed one of the most timid mares in Equestria into a bundle of excitement.

"…. dragon egg…"

"Oh my gosh, a dragon's egg! What kind of dragon? How big will it get? Is it dangerous?"

"Only… if… drop it… on somepony's…head!" Celestia growled into her blankets. She was suddenly very envious of earth and pegasus ponies. At least THEY could shove a pillow over their face without goring a hole through it.

Silver Bow seemed to have picked up on her annoyance, because she quickly leapt up and made for the door.

"I'm so sorry for keeping you awake, I'll see myself out. Wow, an actual dragon egg! I'd love to see what it looks like. I can't wait to tell everyone else! I wonder if…"

By the time the mare's voice had vanished down the corridor, Celestia was out like a light.

* * *

><p>It was truly amazing what a good night's sleep could do. Where previously she had felt dead on her hooves, today she was on top of the world. Meetings and visitations flew by in a whirlwind of productivity. She was unstoppable! She was invincible! She-<p>

"Your majesty? With your permission, I would like to move on to one final, troubling order of business."

-didn't like the sound of that one bit.

Her gaze swept across the table, trying to pinpoint which of her councilors had spoken. The stallion in question was a light, almost pale green, and he was leaning over the table with an almost frantic look.

"Of course Sweet Grass, please share what news you have."

"Your majesty," he said with a quick nod to the group. "Councilors, this matter concerns a disturbing rumor that has been spreading amongst my staff since last night. Allegedly, there has been a dragon egg smuggled into the castle!"

Silence fell as those in the room immediately focused their attention on Sweet Grass, their expressions ranging from disbelief to concern to annoyance. The only exception was Celestia herself, who looked as though he had simply commented upon the weather.

"Normally, I would attribute this to simple gossip and deal with the individuals myself rather than bring it to the council's attention," he continued. "But the physical description of the egg seems far too detailed to have been simply imagined, and the mare believed to have begun this rumor is not, shall we say… known for such flights of fancy."

Hushed voices filled the room as the gathered ponies began to whisper amongst themselves. The very air was filled with a nervous energy.

Sweet Grass had risen to his hooves, tail twitching in agitation. "Your majesty, just look at the result of such a rumor! Even here, with the most collected and experienced ponies in Canterlot! Can you imagine the reaction if the rest of the city were to find out? We must move quickly, launch an investigation, and discover just where this egg originated from and how it came to be in the castle!"

A one-eyed unicorn stallion slammed his hoof onto the table. "Can't you get that damn PR obsession out of your head for one blasted minute and look at the real problem we're facing? We have to get that egg the buck out of Canterlot, or we'll be dealing with much worse than a simple panic! I say we call in a regiment and begin searching the entire castle. Meantime, we gather up all those servants of yours and grill them until the guilty one confesses!"

Sweet Grass looked taken aback. "General, are you insinuating that one of MY workers is responsible for this mess?"

"That egg didn't walk itself in here," the unicorn sneered. "Somepony with access to the castle must've brought it in!"

"And what information do you have to prove this," the earth pony snapped back. "I'll not have you accosting them like common criminals without just cause!"

"Just cause!" The general's scarred face twisted into a look of rage. "The entire city is in danger! You want to put the lives of our people at risk because you're afraid of hurting somepony's feelings?"

Sweet Grass kicked his chair aside and stalked around the table with his jaw clenched. The unicorn simply rose with a smile, sparks beginning to crackle and dance around his horn.

"Let me give you some advice, boy," he said as he advanced on the green pony. "It's unwise to start a fight you can't hope to win."

"ENOUGH," Celestia's voice boomed out. The two stallions found themselves lifted into the air and turned to face the irate princess.

"Sweet Grass, General Cascade, you are both here because you serve the greater good of Equestria," she said sternly. "Coming to blows over a disagreement does nothing for our kingdom, nor its people. You are not colts on the playground, so I expect a degree of maturity. From ALL of you," she clarified with a look at the others. "Are we clear?"

The two responded with sheepish nods, and she gently lowered them to their seats before ending her spell.

"Now that we've all calmed down, I'd like to address both of your suggestions. There will be no search of the castle, nor any investigation launched. There is no need because…"

"But, your majesty! Surely you understand the need for swift action in-"

"Because, I can already give the egg's location and explain its presence here," she continued sharply.

All eyes in the room were fixated on Celestia, eager to hear just what she had discovered about this un-hatched intruder.

"The egg is in my chambers," she casually remarked. "Where it has been since I brought it to the castle two nights past."

You could have heard a pin drop from a mile away.

"WHAT," Cascade shrieked. "You, of all ponies, brought that menace here?"

"You disagree with my actions, General?" she asked.

"I certainly do! A thousand pardons, your highness, but what the holy hay were you thinking? This is a dragon we're speaking of! Do you have any idea what its sires will do when they track it here?"

"You've no need to fear such a thing," she reassured him. "I can assure you that none will come in search of this egg, for I recovered it from the very crater dug by the recent meteor strike. It was the only thing to emerged unscathed from the miles of destruction and flattened terrain. Either it was abandoned before the disaster, or orphaned during it."

A maroon pony spoke up. "And now that you've salvaged it, milady, what is to be done? I assume you plan to form a delegation to return it to its own kind in Uruloki?"

Celestia inhaled slowly. This was it. Time to stir up the anthill, rattle the basilisk cage, and blow a goodbye kiss to calm and reasonable discussion.

"No such thing will be done. It was laid here, and so it will be hatched and raised. I intend this dragon to be seen as a full citizen of Equestria."

Jaws dropped, eyes widened, and at least three of the assembled ponies dropped to the ground in a faint.

"But… how… your majesty," Sweet Grass began to sputter. "Why in the… this is insanity! Raising a dragon in Equestria? The very idea is enough to cause pandemonium everywhere! Revolt! Exodus! Mass-suicides! Such a thing could destroy our entire nation!"

"Enough with the doomsday prophecies," a cobalt mare shouted from his left. "I swear, there is no such thing as middle-ground with you! All you can predict is calamities and anarchy!"

"What else do you expect," he fired back. "When the citizens of the kingdom see a gigantic, fire-breathing, bloodthirsty abomination rampaging in the streets?"

"You're speaking as though it will emerge fully grown and ravenous from the egg," a tan pegasus said.

"Regardless of the size, a dragon is a dragon!"

"And how many dragons have you come across, that you think you're an expert on the subject? When it hatches, I assure you it will prove as threatening as any newborn foal."

"You cannot be serious! Stillwater, you of all ponies should know what an absurd idea this is, and yet you support it?" Cascade had been silently fuming since Celestia's reprimand, but now his anger was rekindled, his gaze boring into the sand-colored stallion.

"That's right, I do," Stillwater responded. "What we have here, ladies and gentlecolts, is a unique opportunity for establishing a tolerance between our races. If we allow this dragon to be born and live among us, then it will not be seen as an outsider. If it can be established to the people that it is simply a child, and not a monster, then prejudices can slowly be eroded. As it grows, it will view ponykind as its people, and in time, they will grow to trust it."

The only reply came from a guard to Celestia's right, who quirked a rather Spockish eyebrow and stated, "The councilor's reasoning is quite logical."

Cascade, however, was far from finished. "You are all missing the point! This dragon may come to be accepted as one of our people, but what of its own? Tell me, how do you expect the nation of Uruloki to react when they learn that one of their own was raised in Equestria? Deprived of its native culture to be taught the customs and laws of what they deem 'lesser creatures?' What if they view it as an insult? What if they see it as a threat?"

"You're imagining the worst," another mare argued. "Several dragons already reside, with her majesty's consent, in the more remote areas of the kingdom. This is nothing more than the next step in that process. We are offering sanctuary to an orphaned child, not stealing an infant away from its crib. This charitable action could very well improve dragon/pony relations as a whole; we might even see the treaty blossom into a fully developed alliance!"

"Or it could just as easily become the incentive to renew past hostilities," Cascade spat. "I will not see a war arise over this damned egg!"

Wheeling around to face Celestia, he spoke in a low, harsh rasp. "Your majesty, this egg is nothing short of a menace; it is a disaster waiting to be unleashed. Whatever frivolous reasons possessed you to bring it among us, they do not justify the danger that accompanies it. I demand that it be removed from the kingdom, or destroyed at once!"

Heat flooded the room as a corona of magic blazed around the princess. Eyes glowing white, mane streaming out like a halo of fire, the alicorn arose. The other ponies were rendered immobile, their gazes averted and bodies trembling as the ire of a goddess pulsed through the air.

"**I will hear no more, General,"** Celestia spoke in a whisper, yet her voice roiled over them like a peal of thunder. **"Before you deign to order me about, I would advise you to remind yourself of which of us sits on this throne."**

Her head lowered, and the aura of menace narrowed until it lay directed solely at Cascade. The unicorn was shaking violently, his eyes squeezed shut to avoid looking upon the monarch.

"**Understand this. In commanding me, you are disputing my right of sovereignty. Is that what you wish? Will you challenge me for the throne?"**

"N..no your majesty! Never!" Cascade was struggling for breath as the stifling air burned his mouth and throat. For a moment there was no response, and he feared that his previous words had gone too far, that Celestia's divine power would only burn hotter and stronger until there was nothing left of him but cinders.

As suddenly as it came, the heat vanished. Celestia's appearance returned to normal, magic dissipating as she seemed to deflate in weariness.

"Forgive me," she whispered. Casting an apologetic look to the shaken councilors, she tottered towards the exit. She paused before opening the door, and gave them a final glance.

"Again, I am sorry for my outburst. But my decision is final. From this point onwards, the dragon, hatched or otherwise, is a subject of Equestria. It is under my personal care and protection, and will remain so until I choose otherwise."

"Are we clear," she asked. A chorus of hesitant nods was the only response. "Very well, then I bid you all a good evening."

The walk back to her quarters was slow and disheartening. She was appalled at how easily she had let anger gain control of her. She had never before reacted in such a manner to any of her subjects, even for such insolence as Cascade had shown.

She realized with a start that it was his words themselves that moved her to wrath. His wish for the egg's destruction had brought forth a fury that she had never before experienced. An almost savage feeling of protectiveness had stirred within her, and as her powers built to a crescendo, she would have sooner obliterated him on the spot then let the slightest harm come to her egg.

The very prospect frightened her. She had been willing to fight for the sake of it. She had been willing to kill to protect it.

It was too much to handle at the moment. Pushing every conscious thought out of her head, Celestia stumbled into her room and made straight for the bed. Drifting into an uneasy sleep, she told herself that she would figure this out in the morning. It would all make sense tomorrow…

As she slept, the Princess paid no heed to the fact that she had draped a wing over the egg and pulled it against her side in the night. At the time, it simply seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

* * *

><p>Alright, second chapter done. Rushed this one a tad to get it done before I head off for the holidays, so hopefully I didn't miss any nasty grammatical errors. Also, as per UncleFester84's advice, I've made an effort to utilize the ponified versions of pronouns, and will edit the first chapter to reflect that. As always, feedback is appreciated.<p> 


	3. Long Road to Rebirth

Long Road to Rebirth

_ All days are nights to see till I see thee,_

_ And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me._

_William Shakespeare- Sonnet XLIII_

Okay, third chapter up and running. Hope everyone enjoys!

* * *

><p>"Let's see… <strong>Encyclopedia of Dragon Hordes<strong>? No." The book closed with a snap and magically flew to the side.

"**Mechanics of Draconic Locomotion**, no."

"**Burning Sky- The dragon/pegasus alliance of 1142**, no."

"**Serpentine Embrace**… no!" That particular book was flung rather harshly across the room.

Biting back a yawn, Celestia looked between the large piles that occupied the floor of her bedroom. That morning, she had been forced to admit an unfortunate but undeniable truth. She didn't have the slightest idea how to hatch her egg. The obvious solution would be to enlist the help of an actual dragon, but a number of factors made it highly implausible.

First, there was the small matter of simply finding one. While there were several within the borders of Equestria, they were quite withdrawn. The last confirmed sighting had occurred nearly a decade ago, and that dragon had merely been passing overhead. Tracking down an actual lair would be much more difficult. Second was obtaining its help. Assuming she was able to find and contact a dragon, there was no guarantee it would be in an obliging mood. It might demand that the egg be handed over, or that it be allowed to raise the infant itself. Wouldn't it be just her luck to accidentally contact a dragon who was in fact related to the egg's parents? No, it seemed too risky unless as a final resort.

In lieu of speaking to a dragon, the best available option seemed to be research, and so she trotted straight to the Royal Library of Equestria, where she made one simple request: every book, scroll, tome and article pertaining to dragons. The pony on duty had paled considerably, not a small feat considering her coat was already white. Nevertheless, she scoured the catalogues and shelves, gathering the myriad works into a pile that towered over the princess herself.

Unfazed by the mountain of manuscripts, Celestia called on her magic and levitated the entire pile into the air. The books swirled and floated above her like a gathering storm, a bibliocumulus of paper and ink. Turning to the door, Celestia thanked the librarian, promising to return her checkouts the following afternoon. The pony cheerfully waved farewell, patiently waited until the monarch was out of sight, and then immediately bolted for the office to request a sick day.

The trip back to the castle had been relatively uneventful, though the large amount of whispering bystanders was quite unusual, but she attributed that to her literary satellite more than anything else. It skipped her notice that the whispers began to grow in strength after some of the more eagle-eyed ponies caught a glimpse at a few of the book titles. After depositing the loot in her room, she had taken a light lunch, attended to a few royal matters, ordered that her remaining schedule for the day be cleared, and went to hit the books.

It had not gone well; few of the works were even remotely useful. The majority of the biological and anatomical texts centered entirely on adult dragons, and even the ones that focused on the growth and life-cycle tended to begin with the newly born infants. Perhaps dragons were hesitant to speak about the process, or scholars found the subject to be distasteful. Whatever the reason, there was little information to assist her in the actual hatching.

Works of fiction were even worse. While she had not expected to discover anything profound, there existed a great deal of novels that focused upon dragons living amongst ponies. Maybe, just maybe, there was some nugget of truth waiting to be discovered. Instead, there was book upon book of idealized adventures: dragons nursed back to health by kind-hearted fillies, dragons coming to the rescue of hapless towns and distressed mares, dragons turning against their own wicked brethren for the sake of ponykind. Completely superfluous to her goal, but Celestia had to admit that she found the books reassuring. At the very least, it supported the theory that her subjects would come to accept the idea of a dragon in their midst.

And some might do more than accept it, if the large number of harlequine romances were any indication.

Nevertheless, all she could do was continue searching, her discouragement growing at the same rate as the discard pile. Biographies, historical narratives, bestiaries, but nothing she could use!

She was tossing aside a rather steamy romance called **The Dragon in Twilight** when she saw it. The book was thick and heavy, and the faded appearance of the cover gave her the impression that it hadn't been read for quite some time. The title read **Dragon Eggs: A treatise on incubation and hatching. **In a display of shocking coincidence, she had found exactly what she needed! Gleefully snatching up the book, she leapt onto her bed and began to read.

* * *

><p>Unbeknownst to the princess, there had been a great deal of commotion throughout Canterlot. The previous evening, a fantastic and unbelievable rumor had been leaked into the city. To think, a dragon's egg! Nobles and commoners alike found themselves gossiping at length about this mysterious arrival. It was the biggest news in Canterlot since the baroness Pondera smuggled a rabid cockatrice into her husband's private study after she discovered his sordid affair with the duchess of Hoofingdonshire.<p>

In the end, Sweet Grass had been right. Within a day, all of Canterlot was in an uproar. Granted, it wasn't quite the panic he'd envisioned.

"I say, do you suppose they'll use it to guard the castle," one mare inquired as she looked up from her watercress sandwich. "Quite handy, having a dragon about. It would certainly make a formidable presence, and if some hoodlum were to attempt a spot of mischief, they'd be gobbled right up, don't you know!"

"Heating, of course. Can you imagine the fortune we'd save on lumber in the winter," a blacksmith grumbled as he pumped the bellows of his forge. "You'd just have to fashion its quarters into channeling heat to the boiler, and the dragon'd keep the place nice and toasty!"

"Eet haz been brought for a most special occasion! No doubt ze council, zhey are vanting us to prepare zees egg for an entrée at ze gala!" Down in the royal kitchens, a heavily accented and mustachioed chef was frantically digging through his cookbooks. "Egads! Vere is ze recipe for apple and strawberry meringue?"

And so on and so forth.

Had he been aware of the situation, Alduin would have doubtlessly been horrified by his newfound celebrity status.

But vague rumors can only do so much. The public needed facts. They needed details. They needed the princess. Who else could put their minds at ease and satisfy their hunger for gossip on all things draconic? And so a crowd gathered at the castle gates, a thousand questions on their lips. Was the egg some political refugee? Were its parents nearby? And, in the case of one portly chef, was it edible?

But their stakeout was in vain. The minutes ticked by, and there was no sign whatsoever of the princess. The masses were becoming frantic. When they finally learned that Celestia was in fact visiting the library, they raced off like a clunky, uncoordinated machine, certain that this was some vital clue to the mystery.

Unfortunately their sovereign was in no condition to answer their questions, as she was marching back to the castle like a mare on a mission, toting what appeared to be half the library behind her.

The assembled ponies watched and whispered, their rumor-filled minds trying to understand how this bizarre spectacle could possibly fit into a larger whole. Nopony could come up with an answer, however, until one keen sighted filly nudged her mother's leg and pointed to a book on the lower edge of the cloud.

"Momma," she asked innocently. "Wat are dwagon couwtship wituals?"

The air was filled with melodramatic gasps of shock, and ponies began to once again follow Celestia, their eyes struggling to pick out title names from the maelstrom.

One thing was for sure; there was definitely an egg in Canterlot, and the princess was somehow involved! For the gossip-mill, it was like tossing a chunk of potassium into a bathtub.

The rumors ranged from fantastic…

"Did you hear? They say that the egg is some illegitimate heir to the Uruloki throne," one stallion announced before tossing back a glass of rye. "The family was hunted down at the Equestrian border, but the princess caught them just after the parents were executed. She called down that meteor to kill the murderers before swooping in and retrieving the egg!"

To inappropriate…

"Don't you think it's strange that Celestia suddenly has a dragon egg so soon after peace with their kingdom is declared," one unicorn demanded. "If you ask me, I'd say her and the dragon king were making a bit more than a treaty the past few weeks! Mark my words, what pops out of that egg is going to be a bit more than a dragon, probably gonna have feathers on the wings and hooves on the feet!"

To completely accurate…

"Listen to me! We're in danger, all of us," a stallion yelled from his soapbox at Picafilly Circus. "The egg, it's not from this world! It fell from the sky, banished from its home for past crimes, and once it hatches it will destroy the world! Head for the hills! Flee to the valleys! Run to the rooftops! The end is nigh!"

But nopony paid any attention to him.

Still, for all this nervous excitement, there was something that bothered the gossipers. Despite an almost citywide knowledge of the egg, despite overwhelming "evidence" that linked it to Celestia, not a single one of them had actually laid eyes upon it. Could it be that their imaginations had run away with them? Was this egg nothing more than a fictitious delusion brought about by a bored nobility yearning for thrills? They had to find out. One by one, each pony departed their home or business, their sights fixed solely on the castle.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 19.1: Introduction to nesting.<em>

_In normal cases, the egg is hatched as part of a larger clutch within a nest built by the female parent. The nest is typically a rounded pit dug into the floor of the parent's lair, though a raised mound might be constructed if the terrain proves unsuitable for digging. Typically, one parent remains in physical contact with the eggs, incubating them through the process of thermal conduction. More importantly, this contact creates an imbalance in the ambient magical energy of the infant, lowering its natural resistances so that the parent's energy might aid in its growth. In truth, it is the elemental transfer from parent to child that is vital to a successful hatching._

_That, in turn, explains the extreme difficulty that ponies face in attempting to hatch a dragon's egg. While a replacement nest could be easily constructed, and a pony's body heat could take the place of a parent, mimicking a parent's energy signature is a much more complicated process._

_Fortunately, alternative options exist. Even the most devoted of parents might be forced to temporarily vacate their nest, and in response, dragons have utilized a number of strategies that are easily duplicated by ponies._

_This chapter examines the physical and technical details of-_

Celestia skipped over the next several pages. From what she could tell, a replacement nest would serve only for cosmetic purposes, and the details on draconic incubation were not immediately relevant. She wanted to cut to the chase and get the little one hatched as soon as possible.

_19.8: Artificial Incubation._

_While the proper placement and construction of a nest can prove beneficial, arguably the most important action to be taken is to ensure that the egg is properly incubated. As mentioned in the introduction, ponies cannot accomplish this task in the same manner as a true draconic parent, forcing them to adopt a secondary method. These methods are unique to each individual species, and due to the various elemental affinities that dragons possess, it is vital to the health of the infant that the correct one is used. Be advised that the techniques described herein are potentially hazardous, and failure to match the incubation style with the egg's affinity can result in permanent harm or death to the hatchling. To determine the correct incubation process, one must first identify the type of dragon to be hatched._

_(Note: If you are already aware of the dragon's species, please see page 742.)_

_Fortunately, ascertaining the elemental nature of your hatchling is a simple manner. Simply note the physical characteristics of the egg and compare them to the corresponding table._

_(Note: For detailed information on each species and its elemental properties, see Chapter Four: Draconic Subtypes.)_

Levitating her quill and a blank scroll, Celestia lowered her head and examined the egg. She looked it over with all the concentration of a schoolfilly studying for a test, all the while jotting down her observations. When she determined that the egg had been well and truly examined, she turned to her notes, wanting to ensure that nothing had been missed.

It was roughly a foot and a half in length, three quarters of a foot in width, and weighed approximately twenty-five pounds. The egg possessed an ovoid shape with two axes of symmetry, making it impossible to differentiate between the aerus and taglion. It was pleasantly warm to the touch, and completely smooth, free of any granulations or pits. Finally, the primary coloration was a deep, royal purple, with the spots somewhere between an orchid and lilac tint. Satisfied that all the information was correct, she turned back to the book and began to examine the table. A few moments passed, and her grin slid into a frown when she realized that things didn't add up.

While many of the egg's characteristics fit into specific categories, there was a great deal of overlap, to the point where it was impossible to confidently assign it to a single species. Some of the attributes, such as the color, didn't fit into a single one! She began to wonder if perhaps the author even knew what he was talking about. Clinging to the slim hope of an alternate approach to the alternate, she flipped to the next page.

_Please note that the aforementioned table applies only in the case that both parents are of a similar racial background. Due to their magical characteristics, dragons are fully capable of cross-species reproduction. Inter-racial breeding of this kind will often produce an egg which possesses a combination of physical traits from either parent, making identification through visual means impossible._

"Wonderful," she said. "You couldn't have placed that note a bit earlier in the chapter?" With a sigh of frustration, she crumpled her notes and telekinetically flung them into the wastebasket.

_If the egg cannot be identified by physical characteristics, another option exists, which involves the direct application of magic. This is done by enchanting an object to respond to elemental radiation and placing it in contact with the egg. The channeling object will react by manifesting a physical sign of the element. The spell required is a modification of an already complex enchantment; it is recommended that before attempting the spell, the unicorn initially familiarize themselves with the original variant, **Thermochromic Transmutation**._

A quick mental tug brought the relevant book floating to the bed, and the alicorn quickly scanned the index until she discovered the spell. It enchanted a specific object to change colors in the presence or absence of heat, and was typically used by chemistry students to safely monitor their equipment.

Celestia read through the instructions twice, and her horn lit up with a glow as she prepared to test the spell. Setting her sights on a brass candlestick, she levitated it next to the fireplace and began to concentrate. A warm blue light immediately surrounded the candlestick, and she was pleased to notice that the side closest to the fire was already turning a brilliant shade of red. She rotated it slowly, watching as the red coloration crept in the opposite direction.

With that finished, the princess was ready to move on. Returning the candlestick to its usual place, she was about to compare instructions on the two spells when a knock came at the door.

Normally, Celestia was a very patient deity. Right now, however, she was not in the mood to be disturbed. Climbing off the bed, she magically slammed the doors open and cast the nervous attendant a very tight smile.

"Yeeeeeeessssss?" She ground out, a current of annoyance running through her normally kind and regal voice.

The stallion gave an audible gulp. "Please, um, forgive the intrusion your highness, but there are some ponies requesting an audience with you as soon as possible."

Celestia put a hoof to her chin, adopting a look of contemplation. "Really… an audience, you say? How very strange, I was certain that I quite clearly ordered that my schedule for the day be _cleared_."

"Well… it… it was," the pony stammered, looking as though he wanted to run screaming down the hallway. "It's just that, well, this is a bit of an emergency."

Celestia blew out a long and weary breath. It was just a temporary inconvenience, no reason to get upset, and certainly no excuse to terrify her subjects. Putting on a much more normal smile, she stepped out of the room and motioned for him to follow her down the hallway.

"So what is this emergency?"

"It's, well it's about you, my lady," the stallion said. "They demand to speak to you about, you know, _that_." He gave an exaggerated nod towards her bedroom.

"That?" She asked with an amused smirk.

"_The egg_," he whispered conspiratorially.

She had been afraid of this. As unlikely as it was, she had hoped that the egg could be kept secret until it was hatched. Well, she certainly wasn't going to lie to her people now. With any luck, she would only have a few hysterical ponies to calm.

Opening the doors to the throne room, she strode inside with a confident smile. "Good morning," she announced. "I understand that an audience has been requested… with… me…"

Celestia's jaw dropped as scores of eyes focused upon her. The throne room was filled from wall to wall, ponies of all ages and types packed together and fidgeting with excitement while her aides formed a crude line to try and hold them back. The main doors were fully opened, the crowd stretching out into the streets.

"Oh," she finished meekly, frozen as she stared down the assembled crowd of ponies. The masses looked right back, every one of their gazes boring straight into her. Nothing moved, nopony spoke, and the only sound was a gentle breeze that sent a tumbleweed rolling across the throne room.

'Keep calm,' she told herself. 'No sudden movements. Don't break eye contact. First things first, just focus on getting to the throne.' She nodded imperceptibly. She could do this.

No surgeon or seamstress ever moved as slowly and carefully as Celestia in the next few moments. She sidled cautiously across the room, barely lifting her hooves from the floor as she kept her eyes firmly on the crowd, as if willing them to remain in place. Their eyes moved in unison, centered directly upon her even as their bodies remained stock-still. She was almost there, just a few feet more.

But of course, this was not to be. The universe, with its terrifically vindictive sense of humor, decided that it would be a real treat for a hoof to catch on one of the steps leading to the dais.

*clink*

Ponies throughout the room started at the noise. They blinked and shook their heads as if emerging from a trance.

She waited for a moment, and when they remained silent, she relaxed. That could certainly have gone worse. "My dearest subjects," she began.

A cacophony of voices drowned her out. "Princess Celestia!" cried numerous ponies. There were shouts from every direction as they crowded towards her, mixing into an unrecognizable fog of noise and knocking the hapless attendants to the floor.

"SILENCE!" Sweet Grass yelled over the racket. He glared out at the multicolored group as they quieted. "Whatever your business in this hall, this is no way to behave! Acting in such a way before the princess! Have you all gone mad? Have you no manners? This… this _riotous_ behavior will not be tolerated!"

Seeing that her advisor was on the verge of launching into one of his infamous lectures, Celestia drew herself up and flared out her wings. Recognizing the gesture, subjects and servants alike turned their attention to the princess.

It was time to come clean.

* * *

><p>It just wasn't fair.<p>

The last pony exited the room, his head craning back every few steps. Behind him, light from the newly risen moon flooded into the doorway.

"I only wanted to have a quiet, relaxing day of research and maybe start getting you hatched," she spoke to the egg where it lay nestled against her side.

_What she had hoped would be a quick and simple explanation to the people had rapidly degenerated into absolute chaos. She had finished explaining where the egg had come from, why she had brought it to the city and what she planned on doing with it. And then one towheaded colt had begun to wave his hoof in the air like he was still in the schoolhouse. She had happily indulged him, an act she immediately regretted when he asked if they could possibly see it._

_This time, there was no quieting the commotion. Celestia simply allowed the shouts and exclamations to persist as she turned to one of her attendants and whispered a command into his ear. The unicorn had blinked twice, turned on his hoof, and trotted quickly out of the room. The princess settled back and began to wait, letting the pandemonium run its course._

_The unicorn returned shortly, the egg floating ahead of him. The conversations ground to a halt as the attendant crossed the room, carefully depositing the egg at Celestia's side._

_Taking advantage of the temporary lull, Sweet Grass had rushed forward to begin pushing back the crowd. "Alright, form a line, you lot! I'll not have you pushing and fighting to get a look. You'll all have a turn, so come on; line up!"_

_As each pony slowly approached the throne to dote over the egg, Celestia couldn't help but let an exasperated sigh hiss through her teeth. As thankful as she was for the orderly progression, she couldn't help but feel like this was going to take a very, very long time._

"But no," she continued in a patronizing voice. "Instead, I was fortunate enough to spend the evening presenting you to half of the city."

Stretching herself out on the floor, she gave a most unladylike groan. "Ugh, it was the Grand Galloping Gala all over again!"

To be honest, this had to be one of the worst weeks in recent memory. Monday her kingdom had seen an almost catastrophic impact event. Tuesday was an endless progression of meetings on disaster relief and aid. Wednesday she had nearly gone supernova after a shouting match between her councilors. And today there was a mass pilgrimage to her castle for a momentary peek at a dragon that wasn't even hatched yet!

The way her luck was going, maybe tomorrow her sister would break out of the moon ahead of schedule?

Chuckling to herself, she cracked open an eye and gave the egg as stern of a look as she could muster. "You," she rasped. "Are a troublemaker."

Knowing that no response was forthcoming, she forced herself up and once more levitated the egg onto her back. The walk to her bedroom was slow and contemplative. She knew that the next day was going to be a bad one. After postponing the majority of her duties to research the egg, she would have an even more hectic schedule tomorrow. From there, who could say when she'd finally be caught up? Her already strained free time was on the verge of flat-lining.

With that in mind, she knew that she had only one option. She had to get back to her room, prepare that spell, find out the nature of her egg, and begin the incubation process. And she had to do it TONIGHT. Resigned to another long night, she entered the room, only to find that it was already occupied.

The unicorn colt leapt away from the stone basin he had been standing over, the glow fading from his horn as he fell into a bow. "Oh, your majesty, I didn't expect you back so… I mean please forgive me for trespassing in your quarters!"

"Apology accepted, White Sulfur," she said, stepping around to stare into the basin. It was filled nearly to the brim with water, and the liquid was shimmering with the telltale signs of a recently cast spell.

Looking back to him, she arced an eyebrow. "Might I ask what you were doing?"

His confidence restored, the colt levitated a book from the bed and held it up for her to see. Celestia glanced over the pages, delighted to see instructions for the transmutation spell she currently required.

"You already cast it?"

"Yes, your majesty," he announced proudly. "When you sent me to retrieve the egg earlier today, I noticed the book and decided you'd most likely not have time to prepare it. I took it upon myself to get things ready for when you returned. I was already familiar with the first version, so adapting it wasn't much of a problem! I just had to imbue the spell with a slight elemental charge to alter the sensory aspect to register elemental changes over temperature."

"Impressive!" She congratulated him with a smile. "And what made you choose a tub of water as the medium?"

He glanced down shyly. "Just a hunch, your majesty. I figured that the egg's radiation is emitted uniformly from the shell. In that case, submerging it in water would create a more profound and easily documented reaction."

"Quite clever. So all that remains is for me to place the egg into the basin?" She cast a hesitant look at the water. "Will it be safe?"

"Oh, perfectly safe," he reassured her. "After all, the reaction that occurs will be of the dragon's natural element, perfectly harmless to the egg and its contents."

Thanking the unicorn again, Celestia waited until he departed the room before she levitated the egg from her back and held it over the surface of the water. Halfway tempted to simply drop it right in, she curbed her excitement and gently lowered it to the bottom, holding it with a firm magical grip.

She lay down in front of the basin, eyes riveted to the water as she looked for a reaction. After a moment, the water's shimmering began to subside, and then vanished. A moment passed. Then two. Finally, what looked like sparks began to pop and crackle on the water's surface. Curiously, Celestia leaned forward for a better look, and the water promptly burst into flames.

Celestia toppled over backwards, her eyes wide as the inferno billowed up towards the ceiling. Reacting instinctively, she took hold of the egg and telekinetically yanked it out of the basin. Immediately, the fire sputtered and died, clouds of steam filling the room. Breathing a sigh of relief, she stamped out the small fires that had dripped from the egg onto the carpet.

"Well, I suppose that answers that," she muttered, walking back to the book and flipping to the section on fire subtypes.

The incubation methods made complete sense, all things considered. In order for its elemental needs to be met, it had to spend two-thirds of every day within an open flame, ideally in an enclosed space that retained as much of the heat as possible. The remaining third allowed for alternative incubation, though the minimum temperature exposure was around one-hundred twenty degrees for optimal growth.

She nodded to herself. There was sufficient space in her chambers for both methods to be carried out in safety, and magical assistance could easily keep the fire contained and self-fueling. A simple blanket enchanted with a warmth spell could suffice for the remaining time.

She read over the final bits of the page, stopping at the last footnote. Total incubation time. Of course, she had considered the possibility that the egg was freshly laid before the meteor crash, but she had assumed that even then there was only a few months' delay before it hatched.

One-thousand ninety five days.

Three years.

Celestia felt a pang in her heart at the thought. It would take that long? She didn't know how she could wait. She wanted to hold it, to look into its eyes and feel its heartbeat. Now, to know that three long years would pass without a sound or a movement to reassure her of its health…

She blinked a tear away and cradled it between her forelegs. She had lived so long, what was one more little wait? In time, the longing would become bearable.

She thought of the lonely days and guilty nights since her sister's banishment, those many years ago. How she had apologized through her tears to an un-answering moon.

Yes. This too would pass. She had only to be patient.

Rubbing her cheek against the egg, she whispered to it softly. "I'll wait for you, no matter how long it takes."

Her gaze turned to the window, and the silvery moon beyond. Tears glistened in her eyes. "I'll wait for you both."

* * *

><p>And that's that. Sorry for the delay on this chapter, had to take awhile to recover from the holidays and whatnot. Hope everyone enjoys.<p> 


	4. Grim Tidings

Grim Tidings

_These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend no good to us._

_William Shakespeare- King Lear, 1.2_

* * *

><p>'What is good for Celestia is good for Equestria.'<p>

The proverb had been passed down from generation to generation amongst ponykind. Though brief, it neatly defined the relationship that existed between the princess and her subjects. They owed her their very lives, and it stood to reason that anything which benefited her would in turn better the world.

And now, as Celestia awaited the birth of her first child, the truth of that saying had never been more apparent. Due to the emotionally driven nature of her magic, the alicorn's overwhelmingly positive mood was having some very profound effects on the rest of the world.

The most noticeable change was the rapid increase in solar luminosity. In the passing months, Equestria had enjoyed the mildest winter and balmiest spring in recorded history. The resulting warmth heralded a bountiful growing season, and some even swore that their own health had been bolstered by the sun.

The brightness was even noticeable on the moon, where the heightened illuminance washed over the lunar maria to produce the clearest nights in Equestrian history. But even then, some regions of the moon remained in shadow. Deep in the heart of the Rimae Foalcas, a jet black alicorn shied away from the light. For centuries, she had endured the sun's presence. Now it seemed the Celestia sought to mock her further, flooding her prison with light and heat that was all but unbearable. Cursing her sister, she retreated further into the gloom and dreamt of the night when she would grasp hold of that blinding, damnable orb and finally snuff it out.

At the moment, Celestia had not even considered how she was currently infuriating her younger sibling. In fact, she had barely even noticed the photometric consequences of her euphoria. Despite her best efforts, her thoughts stubbornly returned to barely-contained excitement. Only two years left!

She had restrained herself admirably the first twelve months. She had attended to matters of state, overseen the last repair efforts in the wake of the meteor (or Aethon's Strike, as the historians now called it.) She had even limited herself to checking in on the egg only once per day! Now, though, the impending hatching had changed her from a calm monarch into a filly on Hearth Warming's Eve. Her thoughts were drawn to it every day, questions racing about in her mind. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would its scales be the same color as the egg? What would she name it?

But for the moment, Celestia could only watch and wait. There was no use in being impatient, she would remind herself. The egg would hatch when it was ready, and didn't they say that a watched phoenix never immolates? Granted, that was a bit of a lie, as Philomena always waited until she possessed the maximum number of observers before bursting into flames.

But even as she continued her daily routine, a sliver of nervousness began to creep into Celestia's thoughts. It had been an entire year, after all, and there had not been a single change since she first plucked it from the crater. Her logical side reasoned that this was to be expected. Of course the egg would look the same as before, it was typical of oviparous reproduction. Her emotional side, on the other hand, was much less composed. Something could have gone wrong! It might have been damaged in the meteor impact, or perhaps she had been incubating it incorrectly! There was no way to tell!

She found herself running out of meetings to check up on it, or bolting awake at night and frantically reassuring herself that it was still nestled between her forelegs.

She wished that somehow she could carry it like any other expectant mother. She wanted to feel its kicks, to have its weight inside her as a reminder that it was safe, that it was healthy. It might have been that longing for a normal pregnancy, or perhaps it was because of the pent-up energy that yearned for a release. Whatever the reason, it continued to grow until one quiet summer evening, when Celestia finally snapped.

It began when the much-abused doors to her balcony were broken down by a violently thrown dresser. Shortly thereafter, the entire castle was filled with the sounds of displaced furniture and breaking glass. None of the servants were brave enough to investigate, attributing the noise to a group of vengeful ponygeists, or perhaps a crazed interior decorator. Alerted by the series of bangs and crashes from the monarch's bedroom, the castle guards quickly assembled and stormed into the chamber, only to stare in bemusement at the scene unfolding before them. They had expected to see their princess struggling against some malicious foe, not simply cleaning her room. Although perhaps 'cleaning' was not a strong enough word, as the alicorn was levitating several brooms, mops, and washrags while flinging objects to the side in her manic pursuit of dust.

"Pri… princess," one of the braver ponies sputtered. "Do you… um… require assistance?"

Her eyes snapped to the assembled stallions with a start. She looked them over carefully, and each guard unconsciously straightened as if for a military inspection. When it became clear that no answer was forthcoming, one of the younger stallions lifted a hoof to enter the room.

"WAIT!"

Celestia's yell caused the guard to stumble back in surprise. Or perhaps it was the mop she was brandishing in his face.

"Just what do you think you're doing, hmm? Traipsing in here with that filthy armour, and who knows what sort of monstrosities you've chopped into pieces lately," she said with a suspicious glance at his broadsword. "No, no, no, none of you are setting hoof into this room in such a state!"

The guard's mouth dropped open in confusion. This situation had not been covered in Basic Training. How was one supposed to react when interrogated at mop-point with the princess threatening to swab your deck? He tried to think of a tactful response, but he suddenly found himself possessed by a most unwelcome sensation. He broke into a cold sweat; this could not be happening! Not here, not now! With an extremely volatile princess just inches away, he knew that it would be akin to signing his own death warrant.

He strained to keep his body immobile, years of discipline warring against his own physical urges. He silently begged for the feeling to dissipate. But just when he seemed on the verge of forcing it down, Celestia's mop shook ever so slightly. The guard watched in horror as a light cloud of dust rained down over his nose.

The sensation returned with a vengeance. He futilely ground his teeth together, trying to prolong his life by a few precious seconds. Finally, he could bear it no more. Celestia's eyes widened in realization, but she had no time to move away. His head reared back, his eyes clenched shut, and he silently willed his relatives to omit flowers at the impending funeral.

"ACHOO!"

He kept his eyes closed as an eerie silence filled the room. From behind him came a low rush of air, the other guards simultaneously gasping in dread. A series of muffled scuffs sounded on the floor; no doubt the entire squadron was backing away from ground zero.

The spot that was likely to become the most hazardous place in the known universe.

The spot that he was unluckily occupying.

_*snap*_

The dry snapping sound was enough to force open his eyes. Celestia had not moved an inch, nor had her expression changed. Her mood had obviously dropped, however, at least if the broken mop was any indication. He watched in morbid fascination as a series of fissures spread along the two halves of the wooden handle. Tiny cracking sounds filled the room as flames seemed to blaze in the alicorn's eyes.

"That does it," Celestia roared. "Out you go! OUT, OUT, OUT!"

The pitiful remnants of the mop exploded in a rain of splinters, and the guards fell into a panicked retreat. Their rescue had failed, their forces had been routed, and one mop had been killed in action.

A dark day for the Canterlot Royal Guard.

* * *

><p>Things were proceeding nicely. She had personally scoured the entire room, leaving even the chandelier completely free of dust. Any furniture that possessed sharp or pointed edges had been removed and quickly replaced with cushioned substitutes. She had moved her dressers and bookshelves into recessed alcoves to hide any protruding corners that a toddling infant might fall against. The end result was a wide and open space, perfect for any newborn to explore or play when not in the nursery.<p>

Celestia paused as an idea sprang up. She could simply construct the nursery inside her bedroom! There was certainly enough space, and it seemed only sensible for a mother to always be in close proximity to her child. Nodding to herself, she began telekinetically clearing a space.

"So, this is what's been causing all the racket? A cleaning frenzy?"

She turned to see Cascade leaning against the open doorframe, amusement plain in his remaining eye. Despite their initial confrontation over the egg, the unicorn had been the first of her advisors to fully support her in hatching it.

"Good evening, General," she said over her shoulder. "And yes, I simply felt the need to tidy up in here. Quite a bit of the furniture seemed… impractical, and besides-"

"You don't have to make excuses, your highness," the charcoal stallion laughed. "As a father and a grandfather, I can recognize nesting when I see it."

Celestia felt her face heat up in embarrassment. "You must find this entire situation completely absurd."

The unicorn only smiled kindly.

"Nothing to feel embarrassed about. It's a perfectly natural instinct… or obsession, depending on how you look at it."

He stepped inside and quickly scanned the room. "Of course, some cases do seem to be a bit more extreme than others."

"My wife simply rearranged the furniture in our bedroom," he continued. "Granted, she forced me to spend nearly three hours making sure that one dresser was set at the proper angle…"

He shook his head as if banishing an unpleasant memory. "My daughter, on the other hand, completely remodeled her kitchen so that each of the cupboards could be reached without relying on magic."

"And then there's you," he said with a wave of his hoof. "You demolish century old furniture, turn your chambers upside-down, and almost reduce my newest recruits to tears."

Celestia winced. "I am sorry for that. I'll be sure to personally apologize to each of them."

'Especially that poor colt that I nearly smothered with a mop,' she remembered grimly.

"As you wish, Princess. But tell me, what grievance did you have with them? One mentioned something about your dissatisfaction with their wardrobe? I was unaware that the currently issued armour was so-"

"It wasn't the armour," she protested. Cascade arched an eyebrow at his monarch's helpless expression.

"You're worried about something."

Suddenly all of the nervousness and uncertainty came rushing to the forefront. She had intended to dismiss the unicorn's worries and send him on his way. Instead, she sank to the floor and began spilling the truth. That she was afraid. That she had never done this sort of thing before and had no idea if she was doing it right. That she was afraid she'd be a terrible parent.

"And just today I read that these types of dragons hatch in extremely high-temperature environments! Their immune systems take longer to develop because the heat initially takes care of any bacteria or viruses," she wailed. "I can't just toss the egg in a volcano for the next two years, so I tried to make sure this room was-"

Her rant was cut short as a hoof was pressed lightly against her mouth.

"Forgive me if I'm overstepping my bounds, your highness," Cascade was looking her straight in the eye, speaking slowly and clearly so that she caught every word. "But I need you to shut up and listen."

"I know that things seem overwhelming now, but you have to remember that you've looked after this egg for a full year already. You weren't this worried about it then, were you?" She opened her mouth to reply, but he was already continuing. "No, you weren't; uncertain perhaps, but not worrying yourself sick and questioning your abilities."

"Your problem is up here," he motioned a hoof to his forehead. "Your mind is turning and turning, thinking of bleak possibilities and worst case scenarios." He dropped his hoof and smiled. "But in this case, that's not what you should be listening to. So tell me, what does your heart think? Does it want this child?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Does it love this child?"

"Yes." More sure, more forceful this time.

"Is it willing to do anything and everything it can to ensure that this child hatches and grows happily and healthily?"

"Yes!"

She was right in his face now, her muzzle almost pressed against his own as she glared into his eye.

He grinned inwardly. Worked every time.

"Then I know that you'll be an excellent mother. I can confidently say that there's nopony in Canterlot more qualified to raise this child than you." He gave her foreleg a comforting pat. "I know you're afraid. Trust me; it's alright to be afraid. But there is a tremendous difference between worry and self-doubt. Should you question yourself, you'll only invite disaster. Just remember that I have faith in you. Your entire kingdom has faith. Most importantly, you must have faith in yourself.

Celestia pulled her head back and sighed. He was right, of course. She just needed to calm down and not let her emotions get the best of her. She was certainly impressed by his advice. She doubted most ponies could have so quickly thought up such effective words. Although come to think of it, his entire speech had been delivered fluidly. Almost as if…

"You rehearsed this, didn't you," she accused.

Cascade gulped. "Well, it, um, wasn't completely the same you understand. Obviously, she wasn't giving birth to a dragon, and it's not like you're eating alfalfa ice-cream with mustard at the moment." He could see that she wasn't buying it. "But yes, I suppose it was nearly identical to the speech I gave my daughter a year ago."

The princess couldn't help but laugh. "General, I think I'm a few centuries too old for you to be giving me such… paternal advice."

"Can you honestly blame me," the unicorn countered. "You've lectured me since I was just a colt. How could I pass up a chance to try it for myself?"

She laughed again, the last of her worry slowly bleeding away. Seeming to notice her relaxed posture, Cascade stepped back through the door.

"It looks as though my job here is done," he said.

Celestia's face split into a mischievous grin. "Quite so. Thank you for all your help, my number-one assistant!"

Cascade froze in his tracks, head drooping and sighing in resignation. "When are you going to stop calling me that," he muttered.

"Just as soon as it no longer annoys you!" She called out over the sound of the door slamming.

* * *

><p>For a time, it seemed as if the second year would be much the same as the first. A white, pleasant winter melted off into the first green buds of spring. Adults worked, children attended school, and ponies of all ages carried on as they always had. Some found jobs, some found their cutie marks, and some even found love. But through it all, there was a building undercurrent of excitement<p>

Their monarch's joyous mood had long since spread to the populace. Visitors to the castle inquired as to the egg's health. Nursemaids and herpetologists offered their services whenever it should hatch. Oddsmakers the world over began to predict the chances of a male or female birth. Even the most stolid of ponies would be forced to admit that their ruler had taken on the beautiful glow common to all mothers-to-be. Although that might have simply been due to bolometric growth…

All that changed on a warm, humid day in autumn when the sky began to blacken.

Acting purely on instinct, many ponies immediately ran for cover, assuming that the darkness precluded an unannounced thunderstorm. When a noticeable lack of rain and lightning appeared, they slowly emerged and looked up with amazement.

Slowly, ominously, the moon was beginning to creep across the face of the sun. As unusual as solar eclipses were, this one was especially unusual. In what astronomers would recognize as an annular eclipse, the moon appeared much smaller than the sun. This resulted in a black sphere surrounded by a glowing red ring; as second contact melded into totality, it began to resemble a massively dilated pupil inside of a bloody, burning eye. It made for a very ominous sight, and scarcely anypony could stand to look at it for more than a moment before quickly ducking their heads. Every one of them could have sworn that it felt like the moon was staring right back.

They had no idea how right they were.

There was only one being who understood the meaning behind the eclipse. Gazing up at the anomaly, she saw it for what it truly was: A challenge and a curse. A glimpse of a future where the sun was hidden forever, with only the moon and the cold, twinkling stars for light.

Celestia knew she was up there: hidden somewhere in the shadows. A chill ran up her spine, and she could almost feel the baleful glare. The eyes of a goddess could see far, and she was certain that Luna's were fixed directly upon her.

'No,' a voice rang out furiously from inside. 'You can't think of her as Luna anymore. It would just lead to hesitation, and she would take advantage of it in an instant.'

'But she's my little sister! How can I save her if I only see a monster that needs to be stopped,' she questioned back.

'Isn't that what she is? Or do you really think that ten centuries exiled on the moon will have changed her disposition for the better?'

She had no response to that. When her conscience spoke again, it was soft and apologetic. It spoke in Luna's voice. 'Tia, listen. The future of Equestria, of every pony that lives or ever will depends upon you doing what is right, as difficult as it might be. Even the sister that you remember, that you love, depends on you. Can you raise your hoof against her in love, if not in duty?'

Yes, she could. For her people, for her kingdom, and for her sister above all else.

Exhaling deeply, she pushed aside the now irrelevant documents and lifted several blank scrolls. She wrote quickly, knowing that time might very well be of the essence. The prophecy stated that her sister would return after one-thousand years, but Celestia had no doubts that keeping on schedule would be the last of Luna's priorities. With the last scroll inscribed, she levitated them into a saddlebag and turned to the earth pony whose gaze was nervously set on the eclipse.

"Sweet Grass, summon the council," she ordered. "Present each of them with their assigned instructions, and inform them that I will be expecting a report within the week."

The stallion bowed before loping off down the hall, and Celestia was left to watch the diminishing eclipse as her thoughts turned to what promised to be the most unpleasant family reunion imaginable.

* * *

><p>She was standing on a precipice, the figurative point of no return. To stay would be to ignore the upcoming signs of calamity, to sit idly by and hope. To go forward would be to break one of her staunchest promises, to array herself against the last family she possessed. She looked back to the assembled councilors, and wished again that the burden of responsibility was not hers.<p>

Locks clicked, and wide iron doors swung open in the stone walls. Candles flickered to life in their sconces, illuminating a carpeted staircase that descended into a deep, black place. With the other ponies behind her, Celestia began the slow walk downward. Behind them, the massive doors boomed shut. The chamber was sealed, only the magical charms around them kept oxygen fresh and circulating. The candles winked out behind them as they reached their destination: a massive auditorium carved deep into the bowels of the mountain. In the midst of that great hall stood a small table, a tiny oasis of light in an otherwise lightless space. A single, weakened spark, struggling against the growing darkness.

Celestia took her seat and gestured for the others to take theirs.

"Report," she said.

General Cascade was the first to stand. He threw a curt nod towards the council before lifting his head, horn alight. The empty space above them misted into a large, white orb. Gradual details emerged, until finally a perfect representation of the moon floated above them. Tracked across the surface were a mass of red, vector-tipped lines.

"This image represents an ongoing study of the Aphelion Observatory. Decades ago, astronomers discovered an anomalous signature residing on the moon. These lines represent that signature, an object of latent magical energy, over a course of the last fifteen years. You'll notice that these lines indicate trajectory and direction congruous with a living creature. Whatever is up there, it is unquestionably alive."

"Now, for the non-unicorns in attendance, let me explain that arcane strength is categorized using the electromagnetic spectrum, with higher frequencies used to denote increased power. As such, the dark red coloration indicates that the object possesses a magical aura similar to, but far weaker than that of a typical pony."

"The mare in the moon? General, don't tell me that we've been called down to this… dungeon simply to discuss legends."

Cascade ignored the question, instead altering the image to show the height of the last week's eclipse.

"Here you see the anomaly beginning from the past moonset to the moment of totality." Several of the advisors with scientific backgrounds gasped at what they saw. The red tracks suddenly shifted to a deep orange, then again to a light ochre.

"As you can see," he continued grimly. "The object's magical intensity has increased by an exponential factor. At its current level, it meets the average magical strength of an adolescent unicorn. I would like the council to keep in mind that most unicorns take almost a decade to strengthen themselves to the degree that this anomaly has done in less than an hour."

The undertone of amusement that had flowed through the room dried up in an instant. "Then… it really is Nightmare Moon?" Cascade had no idea who had spoken, but the question was certainly on the mind of everypony in attendance.

"No question," his scowl twitched upwards at the unanimous flinch from his audience. "These astral signatures are impossible to fake, and the ones given off by ponies are especially simple to identify."

Celestia nodded. "At her current speed of recovery, how long do you estimate before Nightmare returns?"

A quick glance at his notes. "Thankfully, recovering from magical depletion is an enormously long process for something as powerful as an alicorn, and the rate of increase has slowed since the initial surge. Our current information puts the minimum deadline at seventeen months. The maximum stands at fourteen years."

"That's quite a margin of uncertainty," she brought a hoof to her chin, frown deepening. "How do you account for such a gap?"

"Frankly, it all depends on Nightmare Moon, your highness." Cascade now stood at parade rest, gaze sweeping the table. Above him, the ochre lines had deepened into a verdant green. "At the current rate, the minimum deadline represents when she will have regained enough power to break lunar containment and retain sufficient energy to return to Equestria."

A chorus of voices rang out, disbelieving that what they had always dismissed as a simple boogeymare could be upon them in just over a year.

"BUT THAT IS NOT WHAT WE ANTICIPATE!" The general's voice boomed out through the cavern, goading the rest back into silence. "As I said, seventeen months would allow her to return from the moon, but in doing so, her powers would be nearly spent. I would remind you all that we are speaking of a being that possesses the same wisdom and experience of our princess. I can guarantee that she would not make such a tactical error."

Celestia smiled. Luna had always been a precise and thoughtful planner. No matter how anxious she was to escape her banishment, she would never attack unless at full strength.

"Then it seems the prophecy is right on target."

Cascade nodded to her, and the green lines shifted to a dark violet. "Precisely, fourteen years from now."

"That would certainly hit the thousandth year mark," Stillwater chimed in. "But who's to say what day she'll choose to arrive?"

"She'll appear on the Summer Sun Celebration," Celestia said. "Luna always had a flair for the dramatic."

A maroon stallion spoke up from her left. "Then we have the advantage. Whatever strategy she might be considering, we can immediately begin preparations for-"

"In due time, but for now we must concern ourselves with the present." Celestia turned to an aquamarine pegasus at the far end of the table. "Chinook, how did the public react to last week's event?"

"The vast majority paid it little attention," she answered. "As of this moment, I believe that none are seriously connecting it with Nightmare or her impending return."

"You spoke of the majority… what of the rest?"

Chinook pushed an open scroll over to Cascade. "General, if you please?" The unicorn nodded and magically reconfigured the floating image into a gigantic map of Equestria. Several towns were marked with large X's, some of them connected with solid black lines.

"Over the last week there have been some troubling reports made by the police departments of towns such as Pasturedale, Salt Lick City, and Whinnypeg. The first came from Stableside, where they claimed that the day following the eclipse, members of a 'religious group' began disturbing the peace. They were apparently a strange lot; preaching on the street corners about the true goddess of Equestria, and spouting all sorts of metaphors about the encroaching dusk. They left within a day, but things only become more ominous from there."

She indicated one of the marked cities. "They've traveled extensively in the last week, making short stops in every town, spreading word of the eclipse and attempting to draw more to their cause. They're a charismatic bunch, to be sure, even if their numbers aren't swelling."

She trailed off and looked up at Celestia. "As it turns out, 'religious group' was far too charitable of a title. In truth, they're more of a doomsday cult, calling themselves 'The Heart of Penumbra.' Near as we can figure, they've been around nearly as long as Nightmare Moon has been banished, believing that her defeat was in truth a cruel usurpation. That her vain and conniving sister betrayed and exiled her, claiming that her act of self-defense was nothing short of an uprising."

Celestia bristled. She had always tolerated naysay and dissent, but this was far from excusable. The nerve! That these fanatics had the gall to paint her as some cold-hearted monster, to twist her most regrettable action into some devious plot...

Shoving down her anger, she kept to the point. "What impact do you expect them to have?"

The pegasus shrugged. "It's difficult to say, milady. They're certainly aware of the prophecy, else they'd have come out of hiding long before the eclipse. Their forthcoming actions are almost impossible to predict, however, as their individual goals widely differ. For every confrontational devotee, there are two impressionable ponies just swept up by the excitement. These recent members are just as likely to head for the hills once Nightmare actually arrives. The others… well I imagine they'll attempt to seek her out as early as possible to pledge their loyalty. Failing that, it's likely they'll seek to cause as much disorder and panic as they possibly can. I wouldn't be surprised if their demonstrations turned to violence, instigated either by themselves or our own citizens."

Celestia paused. These ponies were an unexpected factor in her plans. Should she take steps against them immediately? It would certainly make things easier in the long run, but persecuting them without provocation would only be supporting their claims about her evil ways. On the other hoof, what if violence did erupt? Would she be inciting rebellion by allowing them free reign?

"Chinook, once the meeting is concluded I want standing orders dispatched to ever settlement in the kingdom. Members of this sect are to be regarded as any other citizens of Equestria. They may freely exercise their opinions, but are subject to the same rules as any other pony. Should their words turn to crime or violence, the authorities are free to arrest and detain them, though not without an initial act of unlawfulness on their part. Is that clear?"

Chinook nodded, frantically writing out the princess' directions. Satisfied, Celestia turned her attention to the next speaker. One by one, each pony stood and delivered their reports. As the meeting progressed, she found her gaze constantly drawn to the right, where her two military advisors were quietly arguing.

"General Cascade, General Ryegate, is there a problem?"

The maroon earth pony glanced up sharply. "Not at all your highness. Though Cascade certainly seems to think there is."

The unicorn's remaining eye narrowed. "Indeed, and all you're going to do is sit there in denial until this particular problem comes up and kicks you in the ass!"

"Gentlecolts, please," Celestia interrupted. "Too much is at stake to be arguing amongst ourselves. Cascade, what troubles you?"

The gray stallion leapt to his hooves. "Your majesty. There is something I have recently learned that coincides with my report on Nightmare Moon and her magical recuperation. General Ryegate has informed me that several of the unicorns under his command have noticed the same energy signature scattered across the country."

"A simple coincidence," Ryegate thundered. "And what it proves is that your own findings are mistaken, when the same energy you claim to monitor is found all over Equestria!"

"Which only proves that Nightmare Moon is already at work," Cascade fired back. "If her presence is here, then it means that certain ponies amongst us have been imparted a portion of her magic." He gestured to the assembled ponies. "It is a more common practice than you might think! You've all seen her majesty's personal honor guard, have you not? Has it never struck you how similar they all appear? The identically colored coats and manes? Their eyes, even?"

The councilors nodded in unison, and a triumphant smirk broke across the unicorn's face. "Well, allow me to inform you that this is not some familial connection or 'simple coincidence,'" he spat at Ryegate. "Rather, it is a physical mutation caused by an infusion of divine magic. Celestia's, to be precise."

Heads turned, the councilors performing an excellent impersonation of an owl as they turned to the princess. Although incensed at having one of her secrets revealed, she nodded to confirm the general's statement.

Ryegate scoffed. "An enlightening parallel, but you've still given no explanation on HOW these ponies were gifted with such power. Are you suggesting that Nightmare Moon took a vacation sometime in the last decade?"

Celestia could see that her old friend was rapidly approaching a meltdown, so she decided it was time to step in.

"General Ryegate," she asked. "Are you familiar with the legend of the Woe-laden Herd?"

"Another old foal's tale," the earth pony replied. "Something about a cursed bloodline stemming from some ancient treachery."

"Quite. And much like the Mare in the Moon, it is a factual account whose relevance has long been forgotten." Motioning the room into silence, she cleared her throat.

"Long before she was exiled, Luna and myself each chose a family of pegasi to serve as our elite guards. As a reward for their service, we imparted a fraction of our power to each of them. We meant it to represent a bond of camaraderie between themselves, and a special connection between them and their rulers. One of the effects was a physical alteration. For my guards, their coats faded to white, their tails to shades of blue. Luna's guards changed to hues of black and gray, eyes golden, and wings resembling those of a bat."

She looked out over the table. As expected, the council was listening raptly, seeming to hang onto every word. "But there was another consequence to this action. One that Nightmare Moon took full advantage of. She learned that the connection between herself and her guards could serve as a conduit, one through which more magic could be forced. In doing so, she could bend them completely to her will."

Her voice had dropped to a whisper. The memories of that day were as painful to recall as ever. "On the day of her banishment, she ordered her guards into battle against my own. They were to fight relentlessly and without mercy, to ensure that no aid could possibly reach me. While she and I dueled, our forces tore each other apart."

"Five-dozen fell in the time before I triumphed. Those of Luna's forces that survived were immediately freed from the mental control, though they were deeply traumatized by the blood they had been forced to shed. They resigned from their duties in shame, scattering into Equestria to attempt and salvage their lives. But all the while, the taint of Nightmare Moon lingered in their blood, passed down from parent to child in an unending curse."

The room fell silent when she finished the tale. It was as though a veil had been lifted from their eyes, and the true severity of the situation was finally apparent. Ponies reduced to mindless drones, ordered into suicidal assaults that had left over half a hundred of their number slain. And if that magical corruption had indeed been carried through their offspring…

"But Princess," Sweet Grass said, his voice oddly strained and fearful. "Surely this is of little concern to us now? With so many generations having come and gone, the taint must have diffused and diluted to almost nothing!"

Ryegate nodded. "He is correct, majesty. The energy signature my troops have noted was of widespread, though miniscule intensity. In truth, it could not even be pinpointed to a single pony."

"It does not matter how concentrated the magic is," she said. "Even the smallest trace is enough for her to take control."

"Good goddess," Ryegate whispered. "If every one of their descendants is a potential link, we could be looking at a third of the kingdom turning against us, at the very least!"

"And with no viable way to identify them, any counter-strategy is going to involve us going in blind," Cascade muttered, already scribbling rapidly on Chinook's map. "Going by sheer probability, the original guards would have settled in larger communities to ensure their anonymity. I think we can safely assume that the vast majority of their descendants will therefore be grouped in the major population centers. Those will have to be priority for garrisoning. Smaller communities will likely mean a smaller number of sleepers. Hopefully, their fellow citizens will be able to overcome them with little difficulty. As such, I recommend a tactical deployment of our military forces to all inhabited areas of the kingdom. Battalion-strength groups for the larger cities such as Manehattan, company to platoon-strength for the towns."

Ryegate was already standing, his tone one of incredulous anger. "General, you cannot be serious! Spreading our forces across Equestria in response to a threat that we have no means of tracking? They'll be cut off, vulnerable!"

Cascade stood his ground, voice wire-taut. "And what do you suggest?"

"A full entrenchment around Canterlot. Priority will be given to maintaining a defense of the city and protection for the princess. If these sleepers are truly under Nightmare's control, it's likely that they'll converge on the city as soon as they're enthralled."

Commotion erupted around the table, voices echoing throughout the chamber. Celestia raised a hoof, and gradually the storm subsided.

"So your grand strategy is to bunker down and wait for the worst," Cascade's face was dark with frustration. "Limiting our strategic options, abandoning the majority of our people… not to mention that this would essentially be putting all of our eggs in one basket, where an unknown amount of those eggs might suddenly explode!"

"With our entire force present, an invasion or internal attack would be quickly neutralized," Ryegate argued. "And from there, they could immediately be redirected to assist in defeating Nightmare Moon."

"Assist in defea… General, we could throw every last soldier we had into the fray, and at best they'd serve only as a temporary distraction! You've never seen alicorn magic at its fullest, have you? It is far beyond anything a unicorn can produce; think of a campfire compared to a forest fire! I guarantee that if any troops face Nightmare Moon, they will die immediately."

"Enough." The voice cut through the air, silencing the two immediately.

Celestia stood. Recognizing the gesture, the council immediately followed suit.

"Generals, you are to immediately begin collaborating on a comprehensive plan for a wide-scale defensive deployment across the kingdom. I hereby command and authorize you to do everything in your power to preserve and protect the citizenry and property of Equestria." She leveled her gaze at Ryegate. "I will not renege on this. Every town and city will be protected. I don't care how it is done, but it WILL be done. I've no intention of opening the front door to the wolves while a select few of us hide upstairs."

She turned to the rest of the table. "All other ponies will see to regional preparations. At this time, they are to be touted as contingencies for natural disasters. Ensure that preparations exist for complete evacuation and relocation of the populace. Should the worst occur, we may have to abandon the cities at a moment's notice."

"We have fourteen years," she concluded. "We will prepare as best we can. Work cautiously, do nothing to spread panic. I would prefer this be kept out of public knowledge for as long as feasibly possible." She turned and began to ascend the staircase.

"Princess, where are you going," somepony called from below.

She smiled to herself. "Just going to check on the Elements."

* * *

><p>The castle had certainly seen better days. Celestia walked silently through the ruins, her mind overlaying the rubble with memories of its former grandeur. There was nowhere in Equestria that provided such stark evidence of the ravages of time. How long had it been since these halls had rung with laughter and life? How many years had it taken since the abandonment before the stone began to crumble, the furniture to rot? It was almost unreal to look upon these collapsed walls and faded rooms and remember what they once were.<p>

Finally she came to the main ballroom. The stone columns had toppled and broken, the windows were cracked and opaque with dust, and tangled vines snaked their way over the floor. For a long while she stood motionless at the room's entrance, trying to picture how it once looked. Would she and her sister be here still, if jealousy had not poisoned Luna's heart? She tried to think of what was, and what could have been, but the debris and wreckage were impossible to ignore, and so she lifted her gaze to what she had come for.

Encircled around a dais were the Elements of Harmony. The six gems hovered above their pedestals, immune to the slow decay of the world around them. Their glow lit up the room, brighter than any stars on even the clearest of nights. The knowledge of her task made their glow seem more ominous than comforting, and they cast a sickly light over the walls and floor.

Celestia stood and stared. She had not been here once since that day. She had made herself never come back, and now that she had returned, she desperately wanted to feel something, to hear something, as if some feeling of inspiration or assurance would emerge from the gloom.

She felt nothing.

She heard nothing.

Stepping onto the dais, she let her eyes linger on the world's only hope. Even if many believed it to be simple legend, all of Equestria had at one point heard of their power. Yet none but Celestia knew that they promised only a short reprieve.

The Elements were losing strength, and in their current state, they could never truly defeat Nightmare Moon. They couldn't even defeat her a thousand years ago. Celestia had been horrified to discover that their total power was too diminished to purge the corrupt magic from Luna's body. Instead, the most she had been capable of was draining her sister's power and exiling her from the kingdom.

Now, the Elements were even weaker than before. Would they even stand a chance?

She knew of only one way, but it carried a terrible risk.

Originally, their power came from the six ponies who created them. Paragons of their kind, they personified the virtues of loyalty, generosity, laughter, kindness, honesty, and magic. They had created the Elements specifically for the alicorn sisters, so that the love and faith of ponykind would always be at their call.

But that power was almost gone, now. If there was to be any chance of saving Luna, the Elements had to be recharged.

Somewhere out there were six ponies who embodied the virtues of the Elements. They were the only ones who could restore them. The problem lay in finding them.

Aside from bringing the gems into contact with everypony in the land, her only option was to completely release the remaining power of the Elements and disperse it into Equestria. Removed from their connection to the respective gems, each one's power would be immediately drawn into its destined bearer. With the bond thus established, the chosen six would simply have to make contact with the gems to return them to their former glory.

But there was so much that could go wrong… and if she went forward, there would be no going back. Dispersing the Elements would render them inert until the new bearers restored them. Were she unable to locate them, or they proved incapable of bonding, she would be left with nothing but six useless stones. Even if they were restored, her connection with them would be severed. She would never wield their power again.

She didn't have to do this. Even if the Elements were weakened, they might still have the strength to stave off her sister. Perhaps not for a thousand years, perhaps not even for a hundred… but it would buy them more time.

No, that would be unfair to Luna, unfair to future generations who might suffer if she delayed the inevitable.

'But if I continue, and my plan fails, all might be lost; WILL be lost.'

But if she did not… it was only a matter of time.

She had to do it. It was their only chance.

Celestia lowered her head. "My little ponies, please forgive me if I'm wrong," she whispered.

Her horn flared with light, and her magical aura engulfed the six gemstones. The Elements seemed to draw inward, as if trying to prevent their magic from being siphoned. Celestia concentrated, and the light and color was pulled out of the stones. Dull and gray, the Elements shrank into orbs, with only the inscription of their original form to differentiate them.

She raised her head, watching as the multicolored aura swirled above her. The colors broke apart with a flash, each of the individual hues rocketing off in a different direction.

Looking back at the orbs, Celestia could see that streams of magic still drifted out of their surfaces. It would take some time before their energy was completely drained. Until then, the balance of Harmony was broken. But once the last of their power transferred to the new bearers, the balance would be restored, the event announced with some wondrous natural phenomenon. She only hoped it would occur in time.

Out in the night, the remnants of the Elements streaked off towards their destinations, to forever change the lives of six young fillies… and one unborn dragon.

* * *

><p>Safe in the dark, warm confines of his egg, Alduin was content.<p>

Were he capable of conscious thought, he would have found it to be a strange and alien sensation. Not a great surprise, considering his entire life had been a whirlwind of battle and bloodshed. The dragon himself would be the first to admit that.

In truth he had experienced such blissful nothingness once before, and in a strange coincidence, it had been on the verge of his previous birth.

There had been a time, though he could no longer remember, when stasis encompassed all of existence. Before the first spirits sacrificed themselves to form the Earth Bones, before Magnus punched a hole in Oblivion to create the sun, all was still.

Nothing lived. Nothing changed. Time itself was nonexistent. The universe was dead.

All that ended when chaos itself stirred in the bleak edge of the cosmos. Sithis reached out across the void, inert matter shuddering into motion at the touch. Harmony vanished as the interstellar medium began to churn and thicken. The very essence of creation was at work; matter gained the strength to attract and contain itself, to build and develop further.

At one particular space in the blackness, that attraction was already at work. A billion particles drifted together, their combined mass clinging and expanding into a shapeless cloud of matter.

It was still small; still weak. While it continued to form in the darkness, countless others were doing the same. Throughout the expanse, eddies merged and coalesced, whipping rapidly through the darkness as a gigantic whirlpool of mass outgrew its smaller brethren.

The smaller cloud remained at a distance, safe from the pull of the whirlpool's axis. Its growth slowed now, only a few molecules at a time. What little it had attained was growing closer, compressing the loosely orbiting particles into a single, solid object.

There was no way of knowing how long the process lasted. It may have been minutes, it may have been millennia. But for a time, the nameless, formless spirit drifted in peace.

When the beginning came, it was swift and sudden. In the blink of an eye, the vast center of the whirlpool collapsed. A hellish, burning light flared in the void, incinerating the many spirits still pulled towards its terrible heat. A violent wind flared around the new light, gathering up the broken spirits and embryonic deities and hurling them into the darkness.

The light dimmed only slightly, a fiery shape emerging from the fading corona: a long serpentine neck, billowing wings, a lithe, powerful body. Its maw stretched wide, and a deafening roar cracked the silence. The first of the gods had awoken.

Akatosh opened his eyes and gazed out upon the gulfs. His thoughts took shape, and creation buckled to his whims. Time was created, a steady, linear progression that brought regularity to a chaotic universe.

Across the void, lights flared and danced like embers thrown from a firepit. With the ordering of existence, the growing forms took shape and life, spirits and deities filling the once empty plane. Aedra and Daedra sprang into being, lesser et'ada gradually forming in their wake.

It hardly noticed. With its proximity to Akatosh, it had almost burnt away in the fury of the god's birth. The shreds of a primeval intelligence sought out the greater presence, futilely trying to recover its floundering strength. In compassion, Akatosh took the dying spirit in his claws and infused it with his very essence. The formless mass twisted and grew, taking a shape akin to that of its father.

Finally, a great black dragon opened his eyes, and Alduin was born. Given life, given thought, he would never again know calm.

Until now.

Stripped of his consciousness, sealed within his egg, he floated in a quiet, endless vacuum. He no longer remembered the agony of the Dragonrend, or the sting of Odahviing's betrayal. Here, he slept in a soft and dreamless slumber, forgetting the echoes of his many pains and regrets. Here, he could be at peace… but not forever.

Nothing lasts forever.

* * *

><p>My apologies to anyone who might've been kept waiting by the lateness of this chapter. Carpal Tunnel Syndrome's pretty much derailed my typing speed, but hopefully the length of the chapter will make up for any tardiness.<p>

Hope everyone enjoys! Let me know what you think.


	5. The Second Coming

Well, here's chapter five. Hope it meets the expectations of anyone who's been waiting. As always, bold indicates extreme volume, italics indicate book excerpts and flashbacks.

5. The Second Coming

_And he descended upon Arda in power and majesty_

_greater than any other of the Valar,_

_as a mountain that wades in the sea_

_and has its head above the clouds_

_and is clad in ice and crowned with smoke and fire._

_J. R. R. Tolkien- The Silmarillion_

* * *

><p>A Definitive History of Mundus: Volume 1- The Dawn Era<p>

by Aicantar of Shimerene (Revised and appended by Fal Droon of Balmora.)

_In the beginning, there was no earth, merely the gods adrift in chaos. The greatest of these, whom mortals call the Nine Divines and Daedric Princes, wearied of the endless void._

_And so they gathered the very fabric of creation and spun themselves tapestries of great beauty and color. Into these works of art they breathed the essence of their divinity, and worlds were born from the images therein. Each a separate plane of existence, a living world maintained and ruled by the god who gave it form. We know these as the planets that drift in the night sky, and the spheres of Oblivion that lurk in the darkness between stars._

_Well pleased with their efforts, the Daedra withdrew to their realms, content to order and manipulate their children as they saw fit. But the Aedra were troubled, for in their wisdom they saw that to control existence was to limit it. What beauty was there to life if it could not grow, could not learn, could not love or hate or choose its own path? And so they reshaped the worlds, striving to create beings more like themselves. But their efforts were in vain, for without the divine spark of Sithis or Anuiel, their creations were naught but mindless drones._

_Despairing, the gods convened, that together they might resolve this terrible problem. It was there that the trickster god, Lorkhan, whom men call Shezarr, raised his voice._

'_We have all toiled in solitude, making worlds within ourselves and of ourselves. How then, can we expect our creations to be anything but extensions of our spirits? Let us band together, and make a new world which none control, but which lives and flourishes through our combined efforts.'_

_All agreed this was an idea of merit, and Magnus was chosen as architect for this construction. Drawing up the plans, he christened it Nirn: The Arena._

_Carefully, lovingly, the Aedra molded this new world. They sculpted the earth and poured out the seas. They formed plants and beasts of all shapes and sizes, giving them reign to spread and multiply over the land. When at last the world was complete, the gods looked upon the works they had wrought and were again moved to despair. For the world of Nirn was of Magnus' design, himself birthed of chaos. Thus it was unstable and violent, and it took all of their might to keep the plane itself from tearing asunder. In desperation, many lesser spirits sacrificed themselves to merge with the fledgling planet, forming the earth bones that even now form the core of our home._

_With a heavy heart, Magnus gathered his spirit children and departed Mundus, bringing stability at the cost of magic. Yet he still desired that we make use of his power, and so he left the sun and stars as holes through which the magic of Aetherius might still reach our world. Thus, magic was not lost to mortal kind._

_Now the world was stable and prepared for its mortal inhabitants, and the lesser et'Ada were forever trapped upon Nirn. They took physical form and appearance, becoming the first ancestors of the men and mer and beastfolk of the modern day. Yet even this was in vain, for in becoming mortal, the spirits forfeited their divine heritage, and with it their free will and thought._

_So it was that Lorkhan offered up his very heart to form the core of this new world, that the spark of godhood might never be lost to our kind. In respect of this sacrifice, Akatosh fired the heart deep into the soil of Nirn and broke the god's plane in half, placing them as two great moons in the sky, that we might never forget the gift that was bestowed upon us._

_With Lorkhan's heart sustaining the world, only one task yet remained._

_Upon their death, the souls of the first mortals drifted aimlessly in the space between Nirn and Oblivion. Here, they were easily preyed upon by the Daedric hordes that delighted in stealing away these souls for their own perverse amusement._

_For a final time, the gods met and debated as to how best protect and guide the mortal souls back to the light of Aetherius. It was decided that one of their number should reside upon Nirn to watch over our people in life, and lead them safely to paradise in death. What could not be decided was which of them should make the sacrifice._

_When no agreement could be reached, a new voice spoke forth. This voice belonged to Alduin, first and greatest of the sons of Akatosh. He alone possessed the courage to accept this burden, dooming himself to a life removed from his father's realm. Moved by his selflessness, his brethren came to his side, each decreeing to serve and to follow him in this duty._

_The gods approved, and bequeathed the inhabitants of Nirn to the lordship of the dov, be us theirs to shepherd and protect. In their last moments upon Aetherius, Akatosh put a blessing upon his children, imbuing the power of creation and destruction into their very speech._

_Thus was The Voice first granted to the dragons, and the rightful rule of Alduin established._

Author's addendum:

It is unknown when the dragons first descended to the mortal realms, but Ehlnofey oral traditions predating the Psijic Order offer a vivid, if ignorant depiction of their arrival.

_Our elders tell of a great fire in the sky. Thunder shook the ground, though no cloud could be seen. What followed was a ball of fire, too bright for any to gaze upon. Some believed that the sun had been struck loose from the heavens, for what else could cast such a terrible light? With it came great tongues of flame, plummeting out of the sky. Our people hid and bowed their heads, fearing that the stars themselves were raining upon us. But the gods were with us, for the fires passed overhead to strike the barren lands of the north. Where they fell, smoke and flame stretched higher than mountains. Our bravest warriors journeyed to search for these fires, but returned to speak of terrible monsters. Winged beasts of tooth and claw, whose voices could shape the very world._

* * *

><p>In all honesty, she should have expected something to go wrong.<p>

The first months of the third year were as calm and peaceful as any she could remember. The prophetic eclipse had been all but forgotten by the majority of her subjects. The slowly evolving preparations for her sister were proceeding easily and discreetly. Even the Heart of Penumbra had faded back from the public eye, though the cult's members were often sighted moving from town to town.

Most important of all, it was almost time for her egg to hatch.

The fourth month saw the return of her previous nervous energy. She had fully prepared the infant's living space, stocked upon all the essential materials, and read every book pertaining to dragon hatchlings at least three times.

She was excited, giddy even, and she could swear that every night when she retired to bed, she could feel the slightest bits of movement from within the shell.

'Soon,' Celestia thought as she lay quietly in the dark, a hoof running gently over the egg's surface. 'You'll be with me soon…'

The fifth month arrived, and then the sixth. Her excitement gradually mellowed back into a calm acceptance. She savored these last anticipatory days, knowing that no matter what the future had in store, she would never experience anything quite like this again.

The seventh month came and went. Celestia remained resolute. 'It will hatch when it's ready,' she continued to remind herself. 'Just give it time.'

When the colors of the leaves began to change, she became anxious. When the leaves began to fall, she became afraid.

Autumn slipped into winter, and the egg lay still. Truly worried, Celestia had meticulously reexamined the book on hatching, certain that an explanation would be found. No solution presented itself. In desperation she relayed a message across the kingdom, summoning the book's author to Canterlot with the greatest haste.

The first snows fell, and she held the egg closer at night, begging silently that it be safe.

The fourth year dawned cold and bleak. Temperatures plummeted throughout Equestria, the rays of the sun seeming to dim with each passing week. Though ponies everywhere struggled through the remaining months of winter, only those in Canterlot understood the reason.

Their princess was being eaten away by grief. They could see it in her frail smile, in the defeated slump of her shoulders, and in the deep and immutable sadness that filled her violet eyes.

* * *

><p>"Which brings us to our next order of business, the applications for next year's enrollment in the school for gifted unicorns…"<p>

"Sweet Grass?"

The earth pony halted in the middle of his report and turned his eyes to the throne. Like many of the castle staff, it was only his years of discipline and poise that kept him from visibly wincing.

Celestia's once immaculate body was almost unrecognizable. Her coat, once an ethereal white, was now the pale grey of an overcast winter's sky. Her mane, usually flowing and buoyant from her magical aura, hung flat and lifeless.

She reminded him of a painting whose color was beginning to fade.

"Yes, your majesty?" He straightened up and pushed these observations to the back of his mind.

"Can we postpone the remaining business until the morrow? I'm afraid that I simply have too much on my mind to focus properly."

That was a definite understatement, though he'd never dream of saying it aloud. Instead, he gave Celestia what he hoped was a confident smile and nodded his head.

"But of course, your majesty. I'll reorganize tomorrow's schedule to accommodate the postponed meetings, as well as inform your remaining appointments to return tomorrow."

"Please convey my sincerest apologies," she requested before stepping down from the throne and exiting the hall.

Sweet Grass blew out a long, frustrated breath. This was bad. Extremely bad. For all of his doom and gloom mentality, even he had to admit that this time there was no over-embellishment necessary. For an entire year, Celestia's fatigue had interfered with just about every facet of courtly business. It was bothersome enough that the amount of postponed daily reports was rapidly accumulating, but the documents constantly arriving from Cascade and Ryegate were driving him mad! Equipment requisitions, updates on troop deployments, absurdly detailed tactical manifests that demanded analysis and confirmation. Even now, they were infesting his once orderly desk, still awaiting Celestia's approval while more continued to arrive.

The sheer inefficiency of the situation mortified him. At the rate they were falling behind schedule, he doubted they'd even stand a chance at preventing the imminent apocalypse. They were doomed, ruined! They needed a damn miracle!

"You there, majordomo!"

The green stallion snapped out of his soliloquy and looked to the main entrance, where a chocolate-brown unicorn was sauntering in through the doors. He narrowed his eyes. Definitely not a Canterlot citizen, this one. "Yes… sir. What can I do for you?"

The unicorn seemed to puff up at being addressed. "Ah, right to the point, that's a good colt! Kindly direct me to the princess, won't you? I've a most pressing matter to discuss."

Condescending, self-entitled and possessing no regard for proper manners… Sweet Grass found himself hating this stallion immediately. Clearing his throat, he tried to adopt a tone of polite regret.

"Unfortunately, the princess is no longer taking audience today. Should you have or wish to schedule an appointment, please return tomorrow morning."

The unicorn scoffed. "Now listen here, my dear fellow, I can assure you that this business simply cannot…"

"Unless it is a matter of national security or personal interest to the princess," Sweet Grass interjected. "It WILL have to wait."

"And what if I told you that it was such a matter," the pony asked haughtily.

Sweet Grass gave a poisonous smirk. "Then you can relay this information to myself or another of the stewards, and we will determine if it merits her attention."

The unicorn stomped a hoof on the floor. "My time is too valuable to be spent pandering to servants! I will speak with the princess, or not at all!"

"Excellent! In that case…" Sweet Grass clapped his hooves, calling over one of Celestia's guards.

"Captain Phalanx," he addressed the pegasus. "Please remove this miscreant from the castle as harshly as you deem appropriate."

"Sir," the guard responded. Waving over two more of his comrades, he moved to set a hoof across the visitor's back and begin shoving him to the door.

Without warning, the unicorn's horn gave off a searing flash of light. Everypony in the room was blinded, many sinking to the ground and throwing a leg over their faces to try and ward off the glare. As the guards stumbled back, the unicorn took the opportunity to make a dash for the second floor.

"Thank you for the warm welcome," he taunted down the stairs. "But I really mustn't keep the princess waiting, and seeing as you're all a tad occupied, I'll simply find her myself. Toodles!"

Phalanx was the first to stumble to his hooves. Whirling around, he fixed the other guards with a glare fierce enough to turn a cockatrice to stone.

"Track. Him. Down."

* * *

><p><em>He paused at the threshold, the first stirrings of unease building in his chest. Only a scant few inches from his talons lay the edge of Aetherius. Beyond was Oblivion.<em>

_Alduin looked back. Clustered behind him were his brothers. Krahjotdaan, Nahagliiv, Numinex, Ahbiilok, and countless others. Fear plain on their faces, but well and prepared to follow, should he leap into the abyss._

_And further behind perched Akatosh himself. Silent, but the god's face was warm with care and trust._

_Emboldened, Alduin whispered a prayer of thanks to his father, swearing that he would not fail in his task._

_He looked again to the edge. The chaos of Oblivion pulsed and churned expectantly. For a moment he beheld it as a living entity; hungry, depraved, and yearning to devour him whole. Before they could reach Mundus, they first had to pass through its jaws._

_This would be the first test of his mettle as king and warden. To ferry his brethren safely through the howling darkness, to reach the mortals who so greatly needed their aid._

_Turning to Paarthurnax, he gave one command before striding forth. "I will cleave a path. Follow in my wake, and do not stray. Fly strong, fly fast, and stop for nothing."_

_It was like stepping from a calm shelter into a maelstrom of shrieking wind. He was tugged violently into the current, the force pulling, pushing and tossing him in every direction as unseen forces battered his body. He slashed and tore with claws and teeth, carving his way through the essence of chaos. Somewhere behind, the others strained and pushed to reach him. Beckoning them on, he descended into Oblivion._

* * *

><p>The setting sun hovered just over the mountains, but the light and warmth it cast was completely lost to the alicorn as she came to a stop at the balcony's edge. Instead, her gaze was drawn to the scenery beneath her hooves. While the balcony was not the greatest vantage point in the world, it was the view she most enjoyed.<p>

The streets and buildings of her city sprawled out before her. Further below was the city of Ponyville, and beyond it the Everfree forest. Her people. Her subjects.

The last few months had taken a heavy toll on her, culminating in an almost crippling exhaustion these past weeks. For a time, everything had seemed so futile. It had been easy to dwell on her failures, to give up and simply await the inevitable. For a time, she had indulged her grief-stricken emotions, but enough was enough. Celestia was a pony of action, and she certainly wasn't going to accomplish a bucking thing moping about and feeling sorry for herself.

She needed… clarity. Leaning over the railing, she forced herself to stare out over the land, unmoving and unblinking until her eyes watered and burned. She recited names, every stallion and mare and foal that she knew or could remember who trusted and depended upon her. She reminded herself of the upcoming storm and her mission, whose importance was too great to even consider failure.

She breathed in. Out. Her thoughts grew clearer as the sun sank lower in the sky. The last traces of despair washed away in the face of a new determination. She was not going to fail. Her people. The egg. Luna. She wouldn't let them down. Any of them.

With a final nod at the setting sun, she turned and headed back into her room. A good night's sleep, and she would be ready to get back to work.

"COME BACK HERE!"

The contemplative silence was broken by a chaotic uproar outside her chambers. Multiple hooves banged against stone as ponies rushed down the hall in what sounded like a veritable stampede.

She heard the low hum of a spell being charged, and then came the sound of several ponies yelling in surprise as a hollow thud rang out from further behind. If she had to guess, it sounded like one of the decorative suits of armour had been knocked… or thrown into the pursuers.

"Quickly, he's getting away! After him!"

The sounds of pursuit returned, and Celestia began to recognize the voices of her guards mixed into the chorus of shouts, curses and taunts that echoed up and down the corridors. Deciding that it was time to investigate, she stepped out into the hall.

Turning corners and racing down halls, Celestia followed the chaotic sounds as best she could. Unfortunately, the sheer volume of noise made it exceedingly difficult to track. Fortunately, she didn't have to search long.

Rounding the corner, Celestia saw three of her guards hunting a brown, maniacally laughing unicorn. The stallion was barely outpacing the pegasi, using his magic to send paintings, vases, and other manner of decorations hurling back as obstacles to keep his pursuers a step behind.

"GOT YOU!"

With a bellowing war-cry, one of the guards leapt forwards, catching the unicorn in a spectacular tackle. The two hit the ground and rolled, knocking over several more irreplaceable works of art before coming to a stop mere feet from Celestia's position.

To his credit, the unicorn was already recovering and attempting to scramble away, only to be tackled by a second guard, and then the third, resulting in a very unpleasant-looking dogpile.

The captain bit down on the unicorn's tail, earning a painful yelp as he began to drag the intruder out of the pile.

"You are hereby charged with the crimes of trespassing, resisting arrest, magical assault on castle staff, physical assault on the royal guard, disturbing the peace, and conspiracy to commit criminal mischief," he declared through a mouthful of hair. "In accordance with the laws of Equestria, I place you under…"

"Phalanx, stand down," Celestia ordered, choosing that moment to intervene before a fight, arrest, and most likely beating took place in her presence.

The pegasus bolted upright, bringing a hoof up in salute while spitting out the tail. "Princess! Please forgive us for disturbing you, but it was necessary to capture this hooligan!"

"HOOLIGAN!" The unicorn fumed angrily from beneath the other stallions. "I've never been so insulted in all my… well within the past week, at the very least!"

"So I see," Celestia commented, watching as a pair of brown hooves emerged from the pile and flailed about. "Could you perhaps explain the situation?"

"Certainly! No less than half an hour after you took leave of the hall, this stallion…" he gave a sharp kick to the unicorn's exposed hindquarters, eliciting an indignant squawk. "Marched inside as though he owned the place, and immediately demanded to see you. When informed of the impossibility of this request, his attitude turned hostile and-"

"I most certainly did not," the unicorn protested, finally managing to wiggle his way out of the dogpile. "Acting as though I'm some common ruffian! I'll have you know that I am a well-respected scholar and researcher, and that I was summoned by the princess herself!"

Celestia blinked. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

The unicorn grinned and lifted his nose pompously. "Perhaps not, but you certainly know OF me! Ronan of Baltimare, humbly at your service!'

Celestia only looked at him blankly. The name was familiar somehow, but his vague statements were doing nothing to jog her memory.

He glanced between her and the guards, a small hint of nervousness creeping into his speech.

"The… foremost expert on draconic life cycles? Author of the only published text on…"

"The process of incubating and hatching dragon eggs through nonconventional means," Celestia finished. The alicorn's posture was becoming tense, almost like a coiled spring.

"Indeed so! And it was to discuss that very work that I traveled here," Ronan stated confidently. Phalanx, however, remained unconvinced.

"If that was the case," he said angrily. "Then you should have said so in the first place!"

"Announce myself?" The unicorn seemed horrified at the idea. "A pony of my stature should need no introduction. I blame the whole matter on your shameful lack of familiarity with my work!"

Phalanx growled under his breath before turning back to the princess. "My lady, unless you have further business with this stallion, I will gladly _escort_ him out of the castle."

"That will not be necessary, Captain. You may go."

"But your majesty," Phalanx tried to reason. "This pony is deranged! He's a menace!"

"And I wish to speak with him, if you will permit it?" Even if it was phrased as a question, the pegasus caught the slight edge in her tone that told him it would be a very poor decision to object.

"As you command," he intoned, giving a final salute before he and the guards headed back down the hall, though not without throwing a very dark glare Ronan's way.

"Well, I'm certainly glad THAT'S over," the unicorn said with a huff. "Uncivilized brutes, the lot of them! If you ask me, I think those helmets of theirs are on just a bit too tight."

Celestia smiled. "They take their duty quite seriously. You can't fault them for that." Stepping up behind him, her horn began to glow. "Now then, shall we get down to business."

"Ah, but of course! There's some manner of egg you want me to examine, yes? I suspected as much from the start; why else would you call an expert such as myself if not to aid in hat-"

There was a sudden burst of light, a feeling of disorientation, and they stood in Celestia's bedroom.

"-ching it?"

Celestia was already retrieving the egg from her bed, allowing the unicorn a few precious seconds to recover from the unexpected teleport. Placing it gently in front of his hooves, she stepped back to give him room to study it.

He looked down, seeing just what she had placed before him, and it felt as though the air had been sucked from his lungs. Despite all of his research on the subject, it had been years since he had seen an authentic egg so close. Just the thought of that amazing creature hidden beneath its shell, the potential, the power, the beauty, it was breathtaking.

"May I," he whispered, a strange hesitance taking hold.

Celestia nodded.

He sank to the floor, pulling the egg closer and rotating it between his hooves. "Remarkable coloration," he mused. "Definitely indicative of a cross-species union, and these spots… I've never seen any permutation of this nature…"

She watched as Ronan continued his examination. His focus had not strayed from the egg for even a moment, muttering to himself as some new detail caught his attention. She only hoped that he could find something she had missed.

"…its affinity?" his voice interrupted her musings.

"I'm sorry?"

"You have a copy of my book," he said. "And I assume that you've already tried hatching this prior to summoning me."

He finally looked up and met her gaze. Realizing that he expected a response, she nodded. "So did you determine its elemental nature?"

"Oh! Oh, of course! The spell your book described proved it to be of fire affinity."

The unicorn grinned. "Ah, the element of duality! Passionate affection and raging destruction! Soothing warmth or suffocating heat. Fitting, very fitting!"

Coughing awkwardly, he continued. "So then how did you proceed to incubate this little one?"

Celestia brought a hoof to her chin in recollection. "I placed it in a magically sustained fire of roughly six-hundred and seventy degrees for sixteen hours a day, with the remaining eight used for incubation at a lower temperature."

He nodded. "Excellent. Am I also to assume that three years have passed since you began the process?"

"Four and a half, actually."

"Just as I thought. And I'm certain that it never occurred to you to simply use your magic and hatch it yourself?"

Celestia's smile vanished. "What?"

Ronan chuckled, an egotistical smirk plastered onto his face. "No reason to blame yourself, your highness. It's a perfectly reasonable mistake, especially for somepony unfortunate enough to be using an outdated copy of my book. You see, I recently discovered that oftentimes incubation alone was insufficient for the final hatching event. In these cases, it was a simple matter of using magic to stimulate the egg into reaching its elemental zenith! By duplicating the embryonic…"

Celestia closed the distance in a matter of seconds, her face inches from his own, a combination of disbelief and barely restrained impatience shimmering in her eyes.

"You can hatch it? Right this minute?" Her voice was quivering, as if she expected it to be a joke at her expense.

"Ye… ye… yes," he stuttered, suddenly having a very good idea of what it was like to stare down an incoming solar flare.

"Then do it! Right now, quick! No time to lose," she urged, almost hopping in place from excitement.

Ronan stepped backwards, trying to compose himself as the alicorn's gaze darted between himself and the egg. Assuming a confident pose, he leveled his horn at the egg and readied his magic.

"Very well! Prepare to be amazed, your highness. Behold; the miracle of life, achieved through arcane improvisation!"

His horn flared with light, and a bolt of energy burst from the tip and struck the egg with a bang.

And then promptly ricocheted straight back at Ronan's face.

His vision blurred as the missile caught him in the forehead, exploding on contact and throwing him into a wall.

He lay dazed for several minutes, only to be pulled back into awareness by the princess shaking him with a hoof.

"That wasn't supposed to happen…"

Before Celestia could inquire as to his wellbeing, Ronan was already up and making his way back to the egg. Examining the surface, his jaw dropped before he let out a joyful shout.

"Remarkable! Truly remarkable! Just look," he gestured wildly at the eggshell. "Not a scratch, nor a mark, nothing to suggest that the spell even made contact! Unprecedented! I've never seen anything like it!"

Before she could respond, he was repeating the spell, taking care to adjust the angle of the shot. Again, the bolt struck with a bang, and again it was deflected upwards to crash harmlessly into the ceiling.

"Amazing! An anti-magic field! Perhaps it's some natural defense mechanism passed down genetically by a parent? Or perhaps it was created through a self-replicating enchantment prior to its discovery! Strange that the egg can still be levitated… perhaps the field only manifests when magic would otherwise pierce the shell?"

"Can it still be hatched?" Celestia repeated herself for the fourth time, beginning to wonder if it would take a punch to the head to get the stallion out of his rant.

"Hatched? Well… you see… I believe so," he responded, though the tone in his voice indicated that he no longer had the slightest idea. "That is… if the field could be penetrated. But it's difficult to say how that might be accomplished. It might be a matter of overloading the field with a powerful enough spell, or maybe scanning its modulation and targeting the weakest section of the frequency."

She thought it over. "Will you teach me the hatching spell?"

"Gladly," he said, overjoyed at the chance to test his theory. What an excellent chapter it would make! **Overcoming Harmonic Oscillations in Embryonic Forcefields.** Quickly explaining the spell's mechanics, he stepped to the side and stared intently at the princess as her horn began to spark.

Celestia gathered her power, ensuring that the spell's magnitude was several degrees higher than that of her compatriot. Satisfied that its power was sufficient, she aimed down her horn and let fly. The blast connected with the egg, and for a moment she could see a near-invisible barrier caving underneath her magic.

Then suddenly there was a loud bang, a rush of air, and the spell was on a collision course with its caster. Celestia threw herself to the side as the bolt sped past, and a resounding boom shook the castle, her much-abused balcony doors blown to pieces for the second time in the last half decade.

Knowing that any further attempts brought the chance of demolishing her room, Celestia refrained from a second try at the egg. Instead, she turned back to Ronan, who had adopted a 'duck and cover' pose the minute the alicorn's spell had backfired.

"Any other ideas," she quipped.

The unicorn lifted his hooves away from his forehead. His mouth opened and closed several times before he sighed. "I got nothing."

The princess nodded. "Likewise." She looked back at the egg. She had exhausted just about every option she knew of. Nothing had worked. Incubation had failed, pony magic had failed, even her own spells were inadequate. There was nowhere left to turn.

Unless...

"Tell me, Ronan," she said. "Would you be interested in helping me locate a dragon roost?"

* * *

><p><em>His wings ached, his legs burned, and his lungs seemed to be filled with sludge. Still he pushed on, still clearing the path for his people. But his strength was flagging, and their pursuers were close behind.<em>

_A low whistling came from below, and Alduin tucked his wings and dove, scarcely avoiding the ballista shot that had been meant for his neck. All around, spells and arrows were arcing into the sky, forcing the dragons to dodge in all directions._

_They were weaving through a dense forest, its trees climbing endlessly into the stormy sky. From below came the blood-chilling howls of werewolves, and further behind, the horns of the Huntsman trumpeting in challenge._

_Alduin's neck bent and twisted, his eyes searching frantically for a fissure or weakness through which they could break free of the plane. Just as with the Deadlands of Mehrunes Dagon, or the Quagmire of Vaermina, Hircine had entrapped them within his realm, intending to hunt them down at his leisure._

_He banked left, a stream of lightning crackling beneath him when he saw it. A break in the trees, and just beyond it, the telltale shimmer of a crack in the plane._

"_BRETHREN! TO ME," he roared. From the forest floor, the arrows and bolts increased in number, as though the hunters knew that their prey was almost lost. Behind him, the others returned to formation, their wings fueled by adrenaline and fear._

_Alduin drew back, neck curving in before thrusting his head forward._

"_Kren… Gron LEIN!"_

_His thu'um reverberated through the still air, a rippling cone of force that rocketed ahead to strike the planar boundary. There was a tremble in the air, then a shudder, then a violent spasm as a black and pulsating hole was torn in the fabric of reality. A portal back to Oblivion. Their only way out._

_Another whistle from below, and Alduin's heart clenched as he heard the sickening crunch of punctured flesh and the agonized shriek of a kinsman. Looking back, he saw Dunovzin fall, a ballista's harpoon lodged in his chest, wing pinned to his side by the weapon's shaft. The dragon plummeted to the forest floor, smashing branches and limbs before striking the ground with a bone-shattering thud. Dark, fur-covered shapes leapt from the underbrush, fangs glinting as they tore into the dragon's body._

_Alduin halted, wings beating rapidly as he slowed to a hover just feet from the portal. The others paused, so unexpected was their leader's hesitation. Once again, he realized that they looked to him for guidance. Whatever the risks, they would stay at his side._

_He cast a glance at the fallen dragon. The werewolves still swarmed over his form, pressed too closely for him to strike with his claws. In desperation, Dunovzin was sweeping his fiery breath over his torso, burning away his own scales to remove the attackers._

_There was no time. Even if they could reach him, the portal would have long since closed. Though it pained his heart, his duty was to his people, and he could not sacrifice them all for the sake of one. Alduin's eyes locked with Dunovzin's, and a resigned acceptance shone in the younger's eyes._

_With a heavy heart, Alduin turned and leapt into the portal, his brother dragons following soon after. As the rift mended and shrank, a muscular shape emerged from the foliage. A tall, humanoid figure, its head was the bleached skull of a deer, and in its hand was a fearsome ebony spear._

_The portal winked shut, and Hircine drove his spear through Dunovzin's skull with a spray of dark blood._

* * *

><p>It was a dark and ominous cave. This would seem normal for any cave, particularly one so deep in the Everfree Forest, but this one in particular carried a greater sense of menace. The entrance was huge and foreboding, its edges marred by scrapes and gouges where <em>something<em> had carved it out of the cliff's face. Deeper inside, the grey stone was swallowed up by an inky blackness, making it all but impossible to guess at how deeply into the earth the tunnel extended.

Celestia stood at the opening, the egg held carefully between her wings. It was not the shadowy gloom of the cave that gave her pause, but rather the creature that she knew dwelled within. Still, she had spent eight months tracking down this lair. She was not going to let cold feet stand in her way. She gathered her wits, sucked in a deep breath, and yelled into the cave.

"I SEEK WORDS WITH THE LORD OF THIS FOREST! LET HIM COME FORTH, IF THIS BE WHERE HE RESIDES!"

Her words echoed down the tunnel, eventually fading into nothingness. Minutes passed, and the silence remained unbroken. Celestia was beginning to wonder if perhaps she had picked the wrong cave, and then she heard it.

From deep in the blackness came a series of dull, whispering booms, like thunderclaps far in the distance.

boom… boom…

Celestia braced her legs. Goddess or no, she understood the risks that came from choosing to confront a dragon in its own lair.

BOOM… BOOM…

Her wings gave an experimental twitch, ready to immediately take to the sky if the creature proved hostile.

**BOOM… BOOM…**

A shape emerged from the gloom, scarcely able to fit through the stone tunnel. First she saw its head. Orange, smoldering eyes fixed above a snarling mouth full of dagger-sharp fangs. Next was a long, serpentine neck, tipped with bladed spines that ran down the length of its massive back. Muscled forearms rippled with every step, talons tearing new scars into the rock as it passed. Finally it emerged, jade scales gleaming in the moonlight, wings opening to add even more width to its already intimidating profile.

"**Who dares to summon me so brazenly,"** it bellowed. **"Such insolence will not go unpunished!"** Flames hissed through its bared teeth as it took another deafening step.

Celestia forced down a laugh at the dragon's blustering. Now that she recognized him, his threats seemed far less malicious. "Yoo-hoo," she called. "Down here!"

The dragon's head snapped down, eyes slitted in fury as the flames from his mouth turned white-hot. **"Foolish wretch! May whatever god you revere take pity on your damned…"** His eyes finally settled on the white alicorn, and his murderous fury deflated.

"**Hello Celestia,"** he grumbled.

"Wonderful to see you again, Cerridan," she replied. "My apologies for not announcing myself sooner, I couldn't help but enjoy your posturing.

The dragon sputtered. **"That was an innate reaction to a perceived threat on my territory! It is instinctive, not some humorous neurosis!"** He crossed his arms and scowled.

Celestia tried, really she did. But seeing such a ferocious creature pouting like a child was too much, and she eventually collapsed in a fit of laughter. Cerridan muttered to himself, but finally indulged in a light chuckle at his own expense.

When their laughter tapered off, the green dragon extended a claw in invitation. Graciously accepting, the princess stepped carefully onto his palm, tucking her legs under her as the dragon turned back into his cave. The two headed deeper into the earth, their conversation the casual banter of two long-separated friends.

At last they came to Cerridan's lair. The cavern opened to a massive amphitheatre, every inch of the floor covered in gold and gems. Momentarily stunned by the abundance of riches, Celestia barely noticed that Cerridan had lightly placed her on the ground and moved towards the largest pile of treasure.

The dragon let out a massive yawn, falling back on his haunches. The noise was enough to jolt Celestia from her trance, and she turned to see her draconian host splay himself out over the hoard, his expression one of restful content.

"**So then, what brings you to my 'humble' abode,"** he inquired, a claw gesturing to the riches that surrounded them. **"It must have taken quite some time to find me, so I doubt you simply came for a friendly chat."**

Celestia blushed, feeling unexpectedly self-conscious at having her motives guessed so quickly. Levitating the egg from her back, she brought it closer to Cerridan's face, inwardly preparing for the worst. She expected disbelief, chastisement, perhaps even outrage. What she did not expect was to be congratulated.

The dragon beamed. **"You've found yourself an egg! Marvelous!"** He lowered his head, giving the egg a tentative sniff. **"An excellent specimen as well. A male, I believe. Very strong, to have such a presence even before hatched. Yes… this will be a fine hatchling."**

"Except that it will not hatch," Celestia interjected. Cerridan's eyes furrowed in confusion, so she quickly explained the difficulties she had encountered. Her initial discovery, its elemental nature, the time spent incubating. She was just describing the anti-magic field when he raised a claw to interrupt.

"**You say this barrier deflected every spell cast at it," **he stated. **"And yet the egg still radiates energy, and is capable of being levitated or otherwise manipulated?"**

"Well… yes."

The dragon rolled his eyes. **"Pony magic,"** he said with a snort. Peering down, he re-examined the egg. The minutes ticked by as he studied every inch of the shell, even blowing a thin stream of fire across its surface. **"You were correct in assuming that a barrier surrounds it," **he said. **"But it seems to be anti-entropic in nature."**

The confusion must have shown on her face, because he continued immediately. **"The barrier keeps it immune… no, removes it from the flow of time. It also prevents the transfer of energy past the egg's surface. Little wonder you were unable to hatch it; unless the barrier is removed, it will remain in stasis forever."**

Celestia was stunned. Did this mean that the egg had been ready to hatch from the moment she found it? How long had it been waiting?

Cerridan extended a hand, his palm flat and hovering over the egg.** "Shall I?"**

She nodded, and the dragon's hand curled into a fist, one claw extended down. Sparks crackled around the digit, brightening and coalescing into an orb of light at the claw's tip. Delicately, he brought the claw down to touch the egg.

The orb of magic began to flatten, the barrier's resistance distorting its shape. Knowing what was about to happen, Celestia ducked. Her foresight was rewarded when a dozen beams of energy lanced off of the egg, drilling holes into the rock walls of the cavern. Cerridan himself was hit in the shoulder, a hiss of pain escaping his lips as he clutched his burned scales. Narrowing his eyes, he crouched in front of the egg and extended both hands.

"**Celestia… stand back,"** he ordered.

As the princess complied, he cupped both hands around the egg, claws bent inward. Again, sparks crackled across his palms, a bluish light taking form between them. Lightning danced between his claws, bolts of energy streaking from one to the next. As she watched, the energy began to arc down towards the egg, only to be deflected back. Cerridan grit his teeth, pouring more energy into the arcane storm that was brewing between his hands.

"**From… what I can tell," **he explained. **"Your mistake in trying to overload the field was only using a single focal point of magic… instead of multiple strikes across the barrier."** He grunted in pain as another bolt was deflected back up and into his thumb. **"If I can saturate the entire field with a great enough charge, it… should… be… enough…"**

Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead, the magic in his hands burning hot enough to melt glass. Beams of energy were streaming out from between his fingers, gouging crevices into the walls and ceiling of the cave. The low-pitched hum of his spell was building into a shrieking whine, and Celestia was almost afraid that his power would completely destroy the egg, rather than hatch it.

Suddenly there was a thunderous crack, and Celestia caught a glimpse of a thin sheet of fire wrapped tightly around the egg. The flames guttered and died, and as the field collapsed, Cerridan's magic was sucked in. It was as though an invisible whirlpool had opened. Wisps, then rivulets, then great streams of energy were being pulled out of the dragon's claws. The egg glowed and pulsed, almost hungrily drawing in more power. Cerridan cried out, eyes rolling back into his skull as he fell limp, yet his claws remained cupped around the egg, his magic still being siphoned.

Celestia dashed forward, horn glowing as she tried to pull those gargantuan hands away. It was a terrible strain, but finally one hand dropped lifelessly, trails of light still dancing between claws. Turning to the next, she succeeded in pushing it back. With the source of energy removed, the egg's glowing faded, and she could see a thin sheet of flame enveloping the shell before vanishing from sight.

Cerridan toppled over, coins and jewels thrown in all directions when he crashed to the ground. Celestia was at his side immediately, looking up in concern as the dragon's jaws moved wordlessly.

"Cerridan, are you alright? What happened? Say something!" Trying to snap him out of it, she kicked and struck his face with all the force she could muster, doubting that he could even feel the blows through his thick scales.

He finally looked down, though Celestia had the feeling that he was staring right through her, his eyes focused on something distant and immaterial, perhaps even nonexistent.

"**I could see stars,"** he said at last. **"Constellations, I think. They were shifting, or melting, becoming symbols that I could not understand. There was something else. A vision of the past, or… was it the future? I saw the lines of fate branching outward, a million possible outcomes for every act or event… and then the symbols blurred into a light. I can't describe… it was as though looking into it would answer all my questions at a terrible price."**

Celestia remained silent, barely listening to the dragon's words. She had seen the barrier collapse. It was only after that the dragon's magic had been absorbed. Now that she knew how to break through, the rest would be simple! She had to get to Canterlot immediately! She was so close!

Cerridan watched as a familiar gleam came to the alicorn's eyes as she levitated the egg onto her back. He had a suspicious feeling that he knew what she was thinking. A frown crossed his face. **"When it began drawing in my magic… I saw a dragon, but made out of fire. He was channeling my energy, preventing it from reaching the egg. He said nothing, but I felt as though he was telling me that it was too soon, that it was not yet time."** He brought a hand to his face, claws pressing against his aching forehead.

"**As tempting as it might be, I would advise you refrain from hatching it. Whatever rests in that egg, princess, it does not belong here. Let it remain inert. It is a danger to us all."**

Celestia was about to retort when she felt a sudden pulse of magic. Strangely, it didn't seem to be coming from any particular direction. Rather, it was as though the shift was occurring from everywhere. But that would only happen if some magical artifact was diffusing… into…

Her eyes widened. The Elements! It was finally time!

She flew up to Cerridan's face and quickly embraced his muzzle. "It's been wonderful visiting you," she said. "But we really must be heading back. Fate of the world and all that. Hope to see you again soon!" And with that, she gave a furious stroke of her wings and sped back down the tunnel.

Cerridan crossed his arms and scowled. As expected, she didn't listen to his advice in the slightest. Well, he supposed it would all work out in the end… though he had a strange feeling he would be seeing that egg again. Or rather… what was inside of it.

* * *

><p>Hoofsteps clicked down the hallway, their rhythm quick and measured. From behind them came the uncoordinated racket of several other hooves struggling to keep pace.<p>

Celestia rounded the corner, her councilors puffing and panting behind her. "Cascade, have your troops been redeployed?"

"As we speak, your highness. All highly trained in magical detection and positioned throughout the kingdom. Anything stronger than a teleport spell, and they'll catch it."

"Stillwater," she looked back at the tan pegasus. "How went the visit to Cloudsdale?"

He smiled. "Clear skies all around. The Equestrian Weather Service has sent word to each of its subdivisions with orders to suspend all operations for the next forty-eight hours, so any meteorological anomaly will be immediately noticed."

"What about observing the…"

"We have ponies keeping an eye on the seismometers, pyrgeometers and barometers," Sweet Grass interrupted. "We're observing magnetic fields, atmospheric phenomenon, you name it. Don't worry ma'am, if the Elements stir up anything, we'll know."

She nodded in satisfaction. "What about communication amongst the sensors?"

The general smirked. "Already taken care of. Several of the unicorns on monitoring duty are my own soldiers. They'll be capable of telepathically spreading the word the second something comes up. Of course, that's assuming it's not some supernatural light show that the whole world'll be able to see."

"Better safe than sorry," she replied, stepping out in the predawn morning. "The only thing we know for certain is that we'll see a brief spike of magical energy around each of the bearers that coincides with whatever physical sign the Elements create. If that sign is negligible, we may lose our chance of immediately locating the six."

"It will all be fine," the unicorn said, trotting back into the palace. "I've only got one more bit of business to attend to, and then I'll personally oversee the monitoring efforts."

Why don't you just relax," he called back over his shoulder. "Leave the rest to us, and try and forget about the Elements for awhile?"

She sighed. He was right, of course he was right. The situation was out of her hooves, in truth it had been when she first discharged the Elements those three years ago. But there was still a desire, no, a need to remain involved. If only to prove to herself that she had done all she could. Equestria was her vessel, her ponies its passengers. If disaster struck, she would not be asleep at the helm.

She unfolded her wings, stepping out onto the dew-covered lawn. Behind her, the royal guard moved into takeoff position, no question or complaint on their lips.

Sweet Grass, however, responded in his usual fashion.

"Your majesty! Where are you going now? You just returned from a nightlong flight into the Everfree! Shouldn't you at least wait until sunrise?"

"It will just be for a short time, my friend," she said. "I'm certain you can handle things until I return."

"But… but…" the earth pony mentally scrambled for an excuse. "What about that unicorn filly you considered taking as your student? Her exam will begin in only a few hours!"

"Which is why I'm putting you in charge of overseeing the test, I have the utmost confidence in you," Celestia called from above, already rising higher into the morning sky. She could hear her steward mumble what sounded suspiciously like a string of curses before he and the remaining councilors headed inside.

Turning in the direction of the Everfree, she began the long journey back to the ancient castle, hopefully to check on the Elements for the final time.

As she flew, however, she failed to notice the trio of ponies watching her from the ground.

* * *

><p>Anypony near the entrance to the School for Gifted Unicorns that morning would have been met with a bizarre sight. A violet filly was approaching the building, her back straight, shoulders squared, eyes cast forward like a prisoner marching to her own execution. On either side was an adult unicorn, presumably the foal's parents. Bringing up the rear was a large unicorn stallion, one eye scarred and useless. Adding to the strangeness of the situation, the elder unicorn looked to be holding back laughter.<p>

Twilight Sparkle's gait began to slow as she came to the entrance, her hooves finally rooting themselves in place before the first step. Her rigid posture broke down into barely concealed panic. Her breaths became shallow, sweat trickling down her face. All of her studies and preparation and work suddenly seemed so ridiculous, nothing but a child's pretending.

Overcome by her anxiety, she started to back away from the doors, fully intent on retreating home to her safe, warm bed. Unfortunately, she found her escape route blocked.

Cascade looked down at her with a smile. "Now I know I'm not the smartest pony in Equestria, but even I can tell you're going the wrong direction, kiddo."

Twilight ducked her head, unable to meet the stallion's gaze. "I… I don't think I'm ready for this."

Cascade levitated her up to eye-level and nuzzled her cheek. "Now that doesn't sound like my Twilight," he chided gently. "Where's the little filly who always wanted to learn more? Who always had her nose in a book, even at the dinner table or in the bathtub? The one who couldn't wait for me to visit so she could show off her latest spell?"

Twilight brought up both hooves and hugged Cascade's neck. Burying her face into his mane, she whispered, "But I'm scared, Grandpa."

"There's nothing wrong with being afraid," he assured her. "Everypony gets scared."

"Not you," she exclaimed, as if the very thought was inconceivable. "You're the bravest pony ever!"

"Even me," he said. "And do you want to know a secret?" The unicorn filly nodded frantically. Pulling back from the embrace, he looked directly into her eyes.

"Being brave doesn't mean you don't get scared. It means not letting that fear stop you. There are things in life, Twilight, that are so important or wonderful that not even fear can keep you from achieving them."

"Is this one of those things," she asked timidly.

"It certainly is."

"Then I'll try my best." Her tone was regaining its strength, the nervousness still in her eyes, but tempered and controlled.

"I'm sure you will." Pulling her closer, he whispered a soft 'good luck' and a softer 'I love you' into her ear before lowering her back to the ground.

"Now you get in there and kick some ass!"

"Dad…" Twilight's mother said disapprovingly. The filly giggled

"Don't worry, grandpa! I'll make you proud," she declared.

Cascade chuckled. "You already have, kiddo."

Her commitment restored, Twilight raced up the steps and into the school, her mother casting an exasperated look Cascade's way before she and her husband followed. The old stallion remained on the steps for a moment more, silently wishing his granddaughter the best in her upcoming trial.

* * *

><p>An ebony shape moved between the trees at the edge of the forest. Aquamarine eyes watched the sky, sliding past the group of pegasi gliding overhead. It was the snow-white alicorn that the gaze was focused upon.<p>

The figure slunk through the underbrush, finally entering an open clearing. A horn began to crackle and glow with energy, its tip locked on Celestia as she flew by unaware.

"I've got a clear line of sight. No wind to interfere with the shot," the unicorn announced, eyes momentarily leaving her target to glance at her two companions. They were both pegasi, one's coat was a burnished gold, the other's a dull orange. What all three ponies shared was the symbol on their flanks. It was the brand of a full moon, stamped directly over their cutie marks.

The unicorn's eyes snapped back to the princess. "She doesn't suspect a thing, won't have any time to react. If I can just cripple a wing, the fall will stun her enough that she'll be easy to capture." Her horn glowed brighter. "Taking the shot…"

The male pegasus slammed a hoof into her face, knocking her to the ground. "Idiot," he hissed, waving a hoof at the monarch's escort. "Did the large number of guards completely escape your notice? How do you expect to subdue the princess AND fight off nearly two dozen soldiers at the same time?"

The unicorn struggled to her feet, nursing the bruise on her muzzle. "Better to challenge the witch outright then slink about like rats in the bush," she spat. "Or have you forgotten that Lady Nightmare does not tolerate cowardice?"

"Neither does she tolerate stupidity," the second pegasus cut in, her eyes tracking the group's progress. "Follow them. An opportunity may present itself."

* * *

><p>"What do you mean, you're not ready?"<p>

The unicorn professor stepped back in surprise, a hoof raised defensively in the wake of the earth pony's anger. Licking her dry lips, she took a second to adjust her glasses, hoping that a moment or two of stalling would calm the stallion.

It didn't.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Sweet Grass demanded. "But what you are saying is that despite being aware of the situation for two weeks and occupying the school's position as Provost for Academic Affairs, you and your department have not devised a suitable test for Ms. Sparkle's entrance exam?"

"We… well we originally planned to simply alter the test's components," she explained hastily. "Choose a more difficult spell for the girl to cast and a less compatible focus medium, but then…"

"I am not interested in excuses!" Sweet Grass exhaled violently, breath hissing out through his teeth. His gaze flicked over to a clock on the office's wall.

"Her test begins in five minutes. You and the other professors will be there on time, despite your abysmal lack of preparation. If the test must be canceled, YOU are going to explain and apologize to that poor filly." His eyes narrowed. "Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," she squeaked, rushing out of the office and down the hall. Stepping out and closing the door, Sweet Grass was about to depart when the full impact of the situation finally hit.

"_I have the utmost confidence in you."_

"OH DEAR SWEET GODDESS," he yelled. "What am I going to do? She trusted me to handle this situation! If she finds out that we had to cancel… I'll be sacked! Fired! Pink-slipped with no pay!"

He was on the verge of a full-blown panic when a condescending voice spoke up from behind.

"You know, I didn't believe it for the longest time, but it looks like the rumors are true after all."

Sweet Grass turned to see Ronan approaching, a lopsided grin adorning his face.

"You really don't have any settings between 'Calm' and 'Freak-out,' do you?"

"You! What are you doing here?"

The unicorn seemed to find the question amusing. "What indeed? If you mean why I am in the building, I'd remind you that as an associate professor of this school, I have every right to be here! If you're asking why I'm wasting my valuable time speaking to such an ungrateful twit as yourself, then I'm pleased to inform you that I have the solution to your troubles!"

The earth pony snorted. "And what would you know about my troubles?" As desperate as the situation was, he would rather face Cascade's wrath and Celestia's disappointment than ask this particular pony for assistance.

Ronan brushed off the insult, that aggravating smile never fading. "Let's cut to the chase. I know that you have a test to administer in only a few minutes. I also know that you have absolutely nothing prepared. Finally, I know of a perfect and readily available way to test this filly's skills."

Much as he loathed to admit it, Sweet Grass was intrigued. If the unicorn actually possessed the means to salvage this situation, then he supposed that once… just once… he could swallow his pride.

"You've caught my interest," he conceded. "What is this alternate test?"

Ronan gave a jaunty flourish and pulled a wooden cart from around the corner. And sitting on a pile of hay inside the cart… was Celestia's egg.

Sweet Grass was sure that his jaw hit the floor. "WHAT IN THE-"

A magical aura swirled around his mouth, clamping his lips shut. The unicorn rolled his eyes. "Can't you shut up for a minute? All this shouting can't be good for your blood pressure…"

Sweet Grass wrenched his head free and glared. "Have you gone mad? This is treachery! Heresy! Blasphemy! Stealing… no! Kidnapping her majesty's egg? HER CHILD? You'll be drawn! Quartered! Hung! Decapitated! All of the above!"

Ronan scoffed. "Oh come now! I'm not the same gate-crasher as before! I'm proven my loyalty! Besides, Celestia trusted me enough to let me try and hatch it, she obviously knows it's safe in my hooves."

Unwilling to give in, Sweet Grass tried a different approach. "So why use it for the test? If you were unable to hatch it, what makes you think this filly will be any different? Or are you purposely trying to fail her?"

"Of course not," Ronan said. "Granted, she might not be capable of hatching it, but that won't be the point of the test." He could see the earth pony's inquisitive look, so he continued.

"The egg has some manner of defensive barrier which reflects any magic that is cast towards it. Assuming her abilities are developed enough, any spell she attempts should be visibly deflected. In lieu of a proper exam, it's really the best way to gauge her magical prowess."

Sweet Grass remained silent. The idea was a good one, and if the barrier that Ronan mentioned did exist, it was unlikely anything would happen to the egg. But what if something…

"You're running out of ti~iiiiiime," the unicorn teased.

Grinding his teeth, Sweet Grass ran behind the cart and began rolling it down the hall.

* * *

><p>They had stayed low, keeping their bodies pressed against tree trunks and under canopies on the off chance that one of the guards turned his attention to the undergrowth. Luckily, their quarry had simply flown on, seemingly unconcerned as to the thought of pursuit.<p>

In time, they come to the ruins of a once great palace. They watched Celestia enter, the guards staying back in either respect or obedience. The cult neither knew nor cared what purpose the building once served, but if it was important to the princess… then perhaps it could somehow be used against her.

The three ponies bided their time until the princess emerged from the castle. They waited until she and her guards once more took wing, staying as still and silent as statues.

When the last pegasus was out of sight, the cultists rushed into the castle, certain that their efforts were to be well-rewarded. They combed through the ruins with fanatical energy, only to find empty rooms and abandoned junk.

"Have you found anything," the female pegasus called from the courtyard.

"Nothing," the black unicorn said with a sigh. She had been through just about every inch of this rock pile, and the only thing she had discovered were six worthless stone orbs. Unless the cult planned to ambush Celestia by dropping them on her head, she didn't see how they would be of any use.

"Keep looking!" Their leader's voice was impatient and frustrated. "From what I can tell, this is the location of the last battle between Celestia and Lady Nightmare! If so, then the Elements of Harmony should be close by!"

"Elements?" She cocked her head and thought. "Weren't those the six things that Celestia used to defeat Nightmare Moon?"

"Yes," he shouted back. "They're magical gemstones. Sparkly, glowy, probably lit up in all colors of the rainbow!"

The unicorn gave the room a quick glance and laughed. "Well, nothing like that around here," she announced. "Just a bunch of fossilized bowling balls." Giving a harsh kick to one of the pedestals, she trotted out of the room. Rejoining the others, she reported that the Elements were nowhere to be found. They realized that Celestia must have suspected their motives, and had no doubt spirited the Elements away to a safer location. They had hit a dead-end.

The leader sighed. "A pity. What a prize they might have made for Lady Nightmare, to be given the instruments of her previous defeat as trophies on the night of her return." Shaking his head, he motioned for the others to follow.

Disheartened, the three cultists headed back into the forest. None of them noticed that the Element of Magic was now precariously close to falling from its pedestal.

* * *

><p>Twilight Sparkle thought she had been scared before. Looking back, her previous fear was miniscule, only the barest step above apprehension!<p>

Now, though, she was petrified. Here she was, standing alone in the center of a vast and intimidating lecture hall, being scrutinized by four stern and downright unpleasant looking unicorns. Each of their gazes seemed to drill straight into her, studying and critiquing her with the same bored detachment as one might possess when examining a particularly loathsome insect.

She gulped, trying to keep from nervously shifting between hooves. Her eyes wandered across the ceilings, the walls, anywhere but the ponies that would decide her fate. She noticed her parents back against the wall, 'subtly' gesturing that she smile.

Obediently, she plastered the widest, fakest, flimsiest smile onto her face, hoping that she at least looked more relaxed than she felt.

She was startled by the sudden bang of an opening door. Turning to the left, she saw a disheveled earth pony panting for breath, his green coat soaked with sweat. Behind him came a dark-maned pony who pushed a wooden cart into the room before departing.

Seemingly satisfied, the green stallion threw a quick smile her way and climbed the steps to where the unicorns stood. Despite her nervousness, Twilight noticed him shoot a dark look at the assembled professors. It gave her a small boost of confidence to see them flinch under his glare. The earth pony exchanged a few hushed words with the professors before moving into a far corner of the room to observe.

The yellow professor cleared her throat and peered down at the egg for a moment before looking back at Twilight. "Well, Ms. Sparkle?"

Twilight stiffened. 'Well,' she mentally repeated. 'Well, WHAT?' They hadn't explained the test, they hadn't explained anything!

She looked back at the cart, examining the egg that lay inside. It looked familiar. She had seen pictures in some of her books that at least resembled it…

Suddenly it clicked. This was a dragon egg! And judging from the picture on the side of the cart… they wanted to her to… to… HATCH it!

She couldn't be more thrilled at her luck! She recently finished a book that on this very subject; had even stood in line for the author to sign his most recent edition! She thought back to chapter nineteen, recalling every detail and aspect of the spell used for hatching.

But could she do it?

Her previous euphoria came crashing down at the sudden realization. She might know HOW to cast this spell, but she had never practiced, certainly never tried it on a real egg before.

A cough from one of the professors brought her back to reality, and she looked up to see them staring down expectedly. She gulped and stepped backwards. It looked like she didn't have a choice. Ready or not, she had to try.

Twilight set her hooves, lowered her head, and concentrated. Well, actually, she TRIED to concentrate. Unfortunately, her own self-doubts, coupled with the stares of four impassive ponies, made it nearly impossible to effectively channel her magic. A few weak sparks and embers leapt from her horn, but nothing resembling an actual spell.

Her efforts halted at the sounds of quills against parchment. Completely forgetting about the egg, she looked up in horror to see the professors scribbling furiously on their scrolls. It felt like her stomach had been dropped into a bucket of ice water.

'Oh no,' she thought. 'They're going to fail me!' She quickly turned back to the egg, trying again and again to conjure the spell. Nothing worked. She needed a clear head and focused thoughts to effectively use her magic, and right now her emotions were far too unstable.

The scratch of quills continued, each scrape sounding like the pounding of a judge's gavel condemning her.

Unfit. Incompetent. Unskilled.

Worthless.

WORTHLESS.

She clenched her eyes shut, doing nothing to stop the tears beginning to fall. She couldn't give up! Her grandfather wouldn't quit, Celestia wouldn't quit!

Whispering a prayer to anyone who might be listening, she mentally focused everything she had on the egg and pushed.

* * *

><p><em>They burst through the last membrane of Oblivion with a sharp ripping sound. The blackness parted to reveal nine shining jewels ahead. Mundus. The mortal realm. Alduin thanked the divines. There had been trials, disasters, and the loss of friends he would mourn for centuries, but their journey was at an end.<em>

_With his people following close behind, they passed the eight planets. Dibella, Stendarr, Arkay. With each stroke of their wings, Nirn grew closer._

_They were almost home._

In Manehattan, an orange filly leaned out her bedroom window, legs folded on the sill as she looked out over the morning scenery. Eyes on the rising sun, her thoughts turned to family and the home she left behind.

_The plane of Kynareth passed by, and now only two objects stood between the dragons and Nirn. The moons, Secunda and Masser. Once the realm of Lorkhan, they had split and withered with the sundering of the god's heart. The dragons slipped between the moons, and Alduin felt a shiver pass up his spine. It was a sobering thought, to remember that even the gods could die._

Beneath Cloudsdale, a pink-maned pegasus hovered in the midst of a crowd of animals, birds and butterflies. Feeling truly happy for the first time in ages, she lifted her own voice to mingle with the birdsong, content with the new friends she had made.

_It is only when Alduin breached the atmosphere that he realized how quickly he was moving. The sudden air resistance staggered him, squeezing against his head and neck, slamming into his chest, wrenching his wings so violently he feared they would be torn from his body. The pain was so great that he failed to notice that his scales were glowing red._

On a cliff edge, in the middle of nowhere, a white unicorn filly was screaming at a rock. This hostile attitude towards an inanimate object could potentially be forgiven, considering that she was overworked, extremely stressed, and had been spent the night being magically dragged into the wilderness, all for a completely ordinary chunk of granite. With a dainty, ladylike growl, she took a breath and bluntly insulted the rock's mental faculties.

_By the time he became aware of the heat on his body, it was too late. Alduin burst into flames. The black dragon screamed in agony, his wings beating in a desperate attempt to slow his momentum. His body continued to burn, though the thickness of his scales ensured his survival. Aching and fatigued, his wing-beats began to slow, then finally stopped. Once again, Alduin was in freefall._

Nudging the last pebble onto the pile, a pink earth pony lifted her head and looked miserably out over the rock farm. Her hair fell limp around her ears, her eyes as dull and lifeless as the stones littering the field.

_He broke through the last layer of clouds, and his eyes widened at the sight. A new world, he was staring down a new, living world! For a moment, the pain was swept from his mind while he tried to process all the things he could see. Lush, green forests. Windswept deserts. Towering mountains capped with ice and snow. The blue trails of rivers, winding their way to lakes and seas. It was his world._

_Alduin wept, his tears swept away by the onrushing air._

In the skies above Cloudsdale, a cyan pegasus rocketed towards the ground. Her eyes were squeezed shut as the wind whipped past, her wings flapping faster and faster. The speed built to a peak, and a mach field began to form in front of her hooves.

* * *

><p>In the castle of the royal pony sisters, the elements of harmony let out the last traces of their power. For the briefest of moments, the stones glowed with their former color and intensity. Then, a sonic boom split the air, the force of its shockwave sending a tremor throughout the room. Already off-balance, the Element of Magic teetered, then fell from its pedestal.<p>

It struck the ground with a crash, shattering into pieces.

Suddenly, Twilight felt as though a fire had been lit deep in her stomach. A sudden feeling of warmth filled her entire body, sending tingles and shocks racing down her legs. A sense of power, of invincibility took hold. She felt like she could run clear around the world, level a mountain, or even levitate the entire city of Canterlot without breaking a sweat! The warmth was still increasing, now an almost stifling heat emanating from her body. Surges of energy were crackling between the hairs on her mane, and arcs of electricity were jumping from leg to leg. The energy needed to be released. Fortunately for Twilight, her horn made an excellent discharge point.

The magic burst from Twilight's horn with a rush of superheated air. The force of the blast disintegrated the cart, shattered the windows, set fire to the rows of chairs, and threw every other pony backwards into the air.

The filly's horn was burning white-hot, glowing as brightly as the sun. Pure magic was streaking out of the tip, widening into a three-foot beam of solid energy centered directly on the egg. For a brief instant the anti-entropic field stood firm, and the beam refracted into thousands of thin spears of light that shot upwards, boiling and melting holes in the stone ceiling.

And then, the field collapsed, and Twilight's magic was sucked into the egg as though an invisible vortex had yawned open. The egg glowed red, then yellow, then finally a dazzling white.

Twilight was blinded. She caught a brief glimpse of symbols and patterns before her vision was swallowed up by a vast, shimmering light. There was something alluring about it, the promise of knowledge greater than any book or scroll could teach. Yet there was danger in that offering, as if the light would demand something precious in return.

She wanted to run, to escape, but something kept her rooted in place. The vision flickered, billowed, and took the form of a dragon. Its body was made of roaring flames, and yet no heat seemed to reach her. In its claw was the egg she had tried to hatch.

Twilight gasped when she noticed streams of magic flowing towards the egg, only to be drawn upwards and into the dragon's open maw. Her shock increased when she saw that the source was her still glowing horn. She tried to stop, but it was like she had no control over her body.

The dragon seemed to notice her presence. **"FOOL! END THIS AT ONCE! YOU CANNOT BEGIN TO IMAGINE WHAT YOU ARE SETTING IN MOTION!"**

She tried her best, did everything she could to end the spell, but nothing seemed to stem the outpouring of magic. She looked helplessly up at the dragon, unsure whether to apologize or beg for help.

With a roar, the dragon lunged forwards, a claw reaching down to snatch the filly up. Twilight shrieked in fright as she was lifted upwards, held fast in the dragon's burning talons.

"Please, wait! I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"**INTENTIONAL OR NOT, YOU HAVE BROUGHT DOOM TO YOUR WORLD. THE TIME WAS NOT RIGHT, AND MY SON WAS NOT READY."**

"Wha… what can I do to fix it," she stammered.

The dragon lifted its second claw, and Twilight could see the ribbons of magic connecting them.

"**THERE IS NO TIME LEFT. WE HAVE ONLY ONE CHOICE."**

The flames engulfed her, and Twilight began to scream.

"**I AM SORRY…"**

* * *

><p><em>He was only a few hundred feet above the ground when a bright flash of color exploded before his eyes. A thundering boom shook the air, and a rainbow-colored ring opened around him. As the colors faded, he saw that the world had changed. Mountains, rivers, and forests had vanished or moved position. The once uninhabited land was dotted with towns and cities. Four-legged creatures of all colors and sizes watched him pass in amazement. He sped over a bustling metropolis, than a magnificent castle built into the side of a mountain, then finally a small village at the edge of a forest.<em>

_He was directly over the woods when the ground rose up to meet him. There was an overwhelming burst of pain, a great explosion of heat and sound, and then all went black._

The beam dissipated as Twilight's magic lost its focus. The unicorn's eyes glowed white, and her body became enveloped in a storm of magic. Her spell had ended, but the damage had been done.

The egg gave a final, desperate shudder, fighting to keep its occupant contained. Then the shell broke, a flash of light and echoing boom signifying the sudden displacement of magic. The world around it seemed to ripple, recoiling at the concussion of foreign energy that surged from the broken shell. The explosion rushed upwards, blowing the roof to pieces and sending shrapnel miles into the sky.

Alduin the Black, world-eater, bane of kings, was awake at last.

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

Thank God it's finished. This chapter was a bitch and a half to complete, mostly because of continuous revisions and rewrites, especially with the alternating viewpoints in the last quarter of the chapter.

Hopefully the finished product is halfway acceptable. Read, review and enjoy! With any luck, the next one won't take quite so long.

Draconic translations:

Kren Gron Lein- Break, Bind, World (Draconic shout for dimensional travel)


	6. Monsters and Madgods

Alright, chapter six up and running. Apologies for the long wait, hope everyone enjoys!_  
><em>

.

Chapter 6- Monsters and Madgods

_Lost in a Roman_

_Wilderness of pain_

_And all the children_

_Are insane…_

_The Doors- The End_

_.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Right now, Sweet Grass could honestly say that he hated his life. No, it wasn't the never-ending mountain of paperwork he had yet to complete, nor the impending apocalypse that drew closer by the second, or even his insufferable and often incompetent colleagues.<p>

No, at the moment it was largely because of his princess and the consequences of the unwarranted amount of faith and trust she had placed in him.

To review, she had appointed him in charge of overseeing the school's entrance exam for a young unicorn filly. Nothing unusual or outlandish about that, true?

Except that he was an earth pony, who didn't have the slightest idea of how to evaluate magical prowess.

Except that the other professors, the actual UNICORNS, had not prepared a test for the girl.

Except that this pony was not just any simple filly, but the granddaughter of their ruler's closest friend and advisor.

Except that Celestia herself planned to take this student under her wing.

No pressure at all. Why couldn't the princess have asked him to just leap off a cliff instead?

And so, in a moment of weakness and desperation, he turned to the worst possible pony for assistance. Ronan had been delighted to oblige, roping him into some insane plot to use Celestia's egg as a type of gauge to measure the filly's power.

At the time, it hadn't seemed like such a terrible idea. Their information had described Ms. Sparkle as a studious and persistent learner, whose magical abilities had developed largely through trial and error. As a result, they expected to see a solid, if unrefined display of magical talent. Likely it would take a few tries for her to adequately manifest a spell, and then it was simply a matter of judging its effect upon the egg.

According to Ronan, there would be a minor display of energy and some superficial burn damage to the walls and ceiling. Nothing serious.

Unfortunately, 'nothing serious' had translated into things going straight to Tartarus.

He watched as Twilight strained and struggled to use her magic, the filly's anxiety building with each scrape of the professor's quills. The earth pony rolled his eyes. He might not know a thing about magic, but in his opinion this entire test seemed more about intimidation than actual assessment.

A thundering boom in the distance snapped him out of his musings. Along with the parents and professors, his attention turned to the windows and the rainbow-colored shockwave that hung in the sky. Momentarily enraptured, they failed to notice the massive upwelling of power that surged through the filly's horn.

Suddenly there came the high-pitched shriek of magical energy, and then a great wave of heat and force slammed into him. Sweet Grass was lifted into the air and hurled into the wall. Vaguely, he could hear a pony screaming, but the sound was muffled by shattering glass and the roar of magic.

The air was hot; he swore he could feel his throat burn as he struggled for breath. He saw the great beam of energy, saw the brief refraction that tunneled a million tiny holes into the room's ceiling, and then it looked as if some unseen drain had opened within the egg as all that terrible magic was sucked into the shell.

But just as suddenly as it came, the spell ended. Twilight's magic ceased projecting and wrapped around her body in a crackling nimbus of purple lightning. Her eyes glowed white, limbs going rigid as she slowly, ominously rose into the air. Barely a foot or two off the ground, but it only added to the building sense of dread that permeated the room.

Sweet Grass paid it no mind; he had a much bigger, much more serious problem occupying his thoughts.

Namely, the fact that Celestia's egg had just exploded.

He stared at the empty space where the cart and egg had only recently sat. All that remained was a pile of soot, steadily growing as more ashes rained down from the gaping hole in the ceiling. What little coherency he retained noted that there was far more ash than could be made by such damage, and that somehow the pile was growing steadily larger.

But there was no time to dwell on the matter. Streams of magic leapt through the room as Twilight lost control of her powers. One bolt shot over his head, striking the wall behind him and changing it from marble to granite. Another hit the burning seats, putting out the fire and restoring them to their former state.

The assembled ponies were beginning to panic. Normally, Sweet Grass would join them, but now he was too busy imagining Celestia's reaction when she learned of the egg's destruction. At first she would probably not even believe the news. Next would come the shock, a sudden paralysis as she'd attempt to deny the truth…

One blast struck the group of professors, simultaneously freezing and levitating the startled unicorns. A twinge of pleasure ran through the earth pony as they floated helplessly above him.

Celestia would be grief-stricken, would tearfully demand to know how such a thing could have happened. Would wonder how the egg managed to get from the safety of her bedroom to being incinerated within this lecture hall? And when she found out that he was responsible…

The girl's parents were the next to be hit. He saw their faces shift from concern to fright before they were transformed into houseplants. Complete with accompanying pots, he noted with almost hysterical amusement.

Once the cold reality finally took hold, he knew the princess would be angry. Well, perhaps angry was an understatement. She would no doubt be furious, enraged, perhaps homicidal. He chuckled mirthlessly. Forget being fired. He would be lucky if she stopped short of killing him on the spot.

The magical field around Twilight contracted before launching one last burst of magic. It raced towards him, and Sweet Grass made no attempt at evasion. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he could never move fast enough to avoid it, or maybe he felt that whatever it did to him was preferable to Celestia's wrath. Regardless of motive, he stood ramrod straight and took the hit without flinching.

"_Nothing serious will occur,"_ Ronan had assured him.

'If I survive this,' he thought in the last moments before turning to stone. 'I'm going to kill that unicorn.'

The magic faded to reveal the frozen statue of an earth pony, a fierce grin set upon its face.

* * *

><p>Twilight screamed and thrashed in the dragon's grip. Flames danced across her body; she could feel her fur smoldering, her mane and tail on the verge of igniting as she nearly suffocated from the awful heat.<p>

The flames pressed tighter against her coat, were absorbed, and then vanished into her flesh as the dragon's essence burrowed deeper inside.

There was the sudden and terrible sensation of being filled, of having her very form stretched to its physical limits. It began as a massive headache that spread down her neck and over her bones, bringing pain and pressure that threatened to split muscle and rupture organs. She could feel hot pinpricks rushing up and down her coat, like something was crawling over her body just underneath the fur.

Worst of all was the presence clawing its way up from the dark recesses of her mind. The sudden feeling of being watched, followed by a strange tingling and twitching in her limbs, like she was a puppet and somepony was experimentally tugging the strings.

The heat was dwindling, the dragon's form gone but for the thin membrane of fire that still wrapped around her. A final burst of heat, and the flames winked out, plunging Twilight into darkness. She closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath. When she opened them, everything had changed.

She was back in the examination hall, but the room was in complete chaos. Windows broken, a massive hole in the ceiling, two potted plants where her parents once stood, a group of unicorns floating lazily through the air, and a stone statue of an earth pony near the corner of the room.

But what truly drew her attention was the pile of ashes near the room's center. It was enormous, filling most of the room's lower level and reaching several feet above her.

What happened next would haunt her dreams for years to come.

The pile shuddered, ash tumbling down the sides like miniature avalanches. Another shudder; a large bulge rose up, as though something was pushing its way out to freedom. Then something burst out of the ashes. Something huge and gleaming white, spotted with ash like the dapple gray of some pony's coats.

It towered over her, and the sight of long phalange-like digits brought a touch of dread to Twilight's thoughts when she finally recognized the sight.

It was a wing. A gigantic, skeletal wing.

Another wing emerged from the pile, and then the skeleton was pulling itself free, ashes falling from the pale bones like snow shaken from a branch. Frozen in shock by the impossible sight, her eyes crept over the long tail, the strangely avian body, serpentine neck, and finally the predatory maw lined with dagger-sharp teeth.

It may not have resembled anything she'd seen in books or pictures, but there was only one thing it could be.

A dragon.

The fleshless jaws opened, and a deep shuddering roar filled the room. The skeletal head dipped, convulsed, and then vomited a torrent of boiling blood. The sanguine waterfall poured over the ashes with a hiss, crimson steam billowing up and around the dragon's wings.

She watched, horrified as the bloodstained ashes floated into the air. Glowing like fiery snowflakes, they clung and stuck to the dragon's bones. When each burning flake met another, they gave a combustive flash and fused, creating a patchwork of tissue over the skeleton's form.

'This is impossible,' she repeated over and over in her head. 'Absolutely impossible.' There was no way that this thing could be real. There was no way that this collection of bones and joints could be alive, could be regenerating before her very eyes. It just couldn't be happening!

'**It is,'** an ancient voice rumbled. There was sound, only a pummeling ache behind her eyes, words seeming to form out of the pain in her head.

"Who, who's out there," she cried, trying and failing to put confidence into her trembling voice. "Help! Please, help me!"

'**I offered my help once before, and you refused it. Pushed right past it, as a matter of fact. To enlist my aid now, you would have to look… inwards,' **the voice seemed to chuckle at its own joke.

Her stomach clenched. The fire seeping into her, the alien presence twisting through her body.

"You… you're that dragon," she gasped. "The one made of fire!"

There was no response, just a confirming hum that fleetingly rose in her ears.

"Why is all this happening," the filly continued. "What do you want!"

A low thrum ran through her mind, the voice's tone rich with sardonic amusement.

'**What I want, dear one, is to spare this world from the consequences of your rather… cataclysmic actions.'**

"Me? But all I tried to do," her eyes leapt back to the dragon. Veins and arteries were snaking their way around and under the bones, muscles anchoring themselves to tendons, membrane bridging the gaps in its wings.

Twilight gasped. "You mean, THAT was inside the egg… and I hatched it?"

'**Yes.'**

Twilight could feel herself shaking, both in fear and in shock of the being that she had let loose upon Equestria. Cataclysmic, was how it described the hatching. Her heartbeat sped up when she recalled the definitions of that word.

She wanted to run, to hide, to put as much distance between herself and the creature as physically possible. She took a small hesitant step backwards, and the voice returned.

'**Are you afraid?'**

"Of course I am, just, just look at it!" she stammered. She could feel her heart nearly pounding out of her chest. It was getting harder to think straight. Her every thought seemed to lead to the image of that eyeless skull rushing downwards, jaws yawning open in preparation to snap tight…

The voice paused for several moments, the feeling of humor drying up like leaves in a hot sun. Its next words were curt, a tense edge accompanying them.

'**I see quite clearly. But what do you see?'**

She licked her dry lips, trying to find words to describe the apparition. In the end, she could only squeak out the simplest of descriptions.

"It looks like a dragon, but it can't be! It must be… it's some kind of monster!"

It was like a thunderclap booming inside of her head. The voice's roar struck and rebounded through her skull with enough force to daze and disorient the helpless filly. Twilight reeled from the sheer power of the shout, half-expecting her eardrums to burst, her skull to crack, her brain to hemorrhage from the soundless pain.

'**YOU SEE NOTHING!'**

It was a scream borne of loss and grief and anger. It was disgust at her lack of understanding, shame at the truth of her words. So much pain. So much regret. Twilight could feel her fear burn away, a trivial emotion in comparison.

Hours seemed to pass, and she almost believed that the presence was gone. Then she felt the familiar tickle in her mind as it spoke again, its tone soft and tired, eons of weariness seeming to press down on every word.

'**What you see is a child,' **it whispered. **'My child.'**

"What? But how did… and the egg… when it's…" she trailed off, not even knowing what to ask. She finally settled on one question to cover everything.

"What happened?"

'**He died, alone and in pain. Still believing, even to his final breath that his path was a righteous one. I had hoped to give him life once again, that he might reclaim what he once was, what he should have become.'**

Twilight was stunned. The voice made it sound as if this dragon was some kind of god, a messianic figure who had fallen from grace long in the past.

A long and terrible sigh. **'Now he is lost, broken, half-mad with the pain of his forced rebirth. I cannot blame you for fearing him. But if you knew him then… selfless and compassionate…'**

The voice trailed off as a roar echoed through the room. Twilight looked back to the skeleton. Armored scales were forming and locking together across the dragon's back, coating its shoulders, snaking down its tail. She could see thorns and spikes of bone sprouting up into wicked blades that could easily bisect or impale a pony like herself.

Could something so frightening, so powerful, so unquestionably lethal truly be good at heart?

It all seemed impossible. She could barely wrap her head around it. Her fear was still there, still yammering for attention, but curiosity was winning over. She needed to know more. Who was the dragon? Who was his father? Where did they come from, and how did they get to Equestria? But before she could voice any of these questions, the dragon bent its head and roared once again.

Twilight shied away, fear momentarily resurfacing, but something made her pause. She could hear a tremble deep within that roar, a sign not of bloodlust or wickedness, but of pain. The scream of an infant waking in the night to agony it does not understand. At that moment, her heart went out to the dragon, and her emotions shifted to a deep and profound guilt.

Forced rebirth, the voice had said. She had brought him back to life; SHE was the cause of his pain.

"Will he be alright," she asked, more to herself than the unseen presence.

The voice responded anyway. **'His mind is fragmented, his memories in pieces. Unless something can be done, he is little more than an animal, a mindless, ravenous beast.'**

Twilight shivered. "Is he dangerous?"

She got the impression that the owner of the voice was smirking. **'Extremely,'** it confirmed.

The guilt pressed harder. If the dragon hurt anypony, wrecked any homes, burned down any cities, it would be because of her.

As young as she was, Twilight was beginning to see the very real severity of the situation she had placed herself in.

Only moments ago, she had seen that egg as nothing more than a means to an end. An obstacle to overcome to secure her entrance into the school.

Now, looking at the great ebony form towering above her, she realized that it was much more than she had believed. This dragon was her responsibility, the danger he posed was her fault, and his suffering was her mistake.

And Grandpa always told her that you have to fix your own mistakes.

But how could she fix this?

The voice startled her out of her musings. **'It is time. I must act now.'**

There was something resigned, final in those words that sent a nervous shock through the unicorn's heart.

"What are you going to do," she asked hurriedly.

'**I will… contain him, ensure that he no longer presents a threat. From there, his mind can heal. It will take years, decades perhaps before he is ready to once again choose his path. It is my greatest hope that his time here prior to that moment will lead him to the right choice.'**

Twilight gasped. The dragon's father was going to simply throw him into Equestria to fend for himself? No care, no guidance, nothing but a vague and distant goal far in the future? She tried to imagine herself without her brother, without her parents or grandfather. Just a hapless filly against the world.

It wasn't fair! The dragon didn't deserve to be left alone like that. He needed a friend, a family!

A sudden revelation came to mind. A way to make up for her mistake, to avert the damage it still might cause. She blurted out her question without even pausing to think it through.

"Can I help him?"

A ripple of shock passed through her thoughts, and she could almost feel a pair of eyes staring at her appraisingly. **'This is not a burden you should accept in haste,'** it warned.** 'To do so would be to bind yourself to him, to become consort and companion. Would you stand beside him, care for him, keep his mind pure and his heart righteous until he is restored?'**

Twilight paused at that. Having yet to reach her first decade, the thought of committing to something for such a length of time was beyond intimidating. The very idea of trying to live alongside and devote herself to something so much greater and more powerful was frightening in the extreme.

But then, what had her grandfather told her? That some things in life were too important or great to let fear stop them. Perhaps this was one of those things. A chance to make up for the pain she had caused. A chance to save a life. To save everypony's life.

She looked back at the dragon. His body had fully reformed, the last scales fusing into place along his black hide. From the sharpened point of his snout to the spear shaped blade at the end of the tail, every inch of his body seemed to be designed for evisceration. She looked over the sculpted gleaming spikes that ran down his back, noticing the cutting edges that accompanied the dagger-sharp points, then the great scythe-like claws that tipped the digits on his feet. Every inch of the dragon's body seemed capable of being used as a weapon. In fact it would be more accurate to say that the dragon itself was a weapon.

And its nameless, shapeless father was asking HER to watch over it.

It was insane. It was ludicrous.

"I will," she promised.

'**Then rest. I will set the stage for his redemption. From there, I entrust him to you.'**

She was afraid to ask, but she did nonetheless. "What if I can't do it?"

The words were cold and blunt. **'Then he will burn your world down to the rocks and bake the rocks until they glow. He will melt the poles, grind the mountains to dust, boil the oceans and set the very clouds aflame. You will all die.'**

With that encouraging thought, the presence seemed to expand through her body, seizing control of every nerve and muscle. Twilight had the vague sensation of her consciousness being pushed aside, and then her vision faded.

* * *

><p>Dying hurts.<p>

In the wake of that last, furious battle in Sovngarde, Alduin could freely and honestly admit that the moments leading up to and including his death were the most agonizing of his life: Thu'ums smashing into him with enough force to crush boulders. Blades tempered in that damnable Skyforge carving deep into his hide. The final, two-handed stroke that opened his throat and set his lifeblood gushing to the ground below.

Being reborn is infinitely worse.

It strikes with all the subtlety of a bucket of water thrown into a sleeper's face. His mind, his soul, awakens at the first ethereal touches of magic. The foreign power bleeds through the shell of his prison, seeking the Aurbis within.

The essence of creation.

The energy of change.

The two meet and fuse with all the fury of a second Big Bang.

The force of that joining blows the egg apart. The Aurbis continues to expand, engorging itself upon the magic like a snake devouring its own tail as it begins to take shape.

Still disoriented from the awakening, Alduin can only wait. Gradually, he regains control of his body.

He lifts a wing, then another. He pulls himself free, free of what, he does not know. He is blind and deaf.

Then the pain begins.

It is beyond description; a white-hot blanket of agony that seems to emerge from within his very bones and wraps him in its unbearable embrace.

Alduin's jaws clamp shut, he tries to brace himself against the pain. It breaks through his pitiful resistance, takes hold, and constricts.

His mouth snaps open, a desperate, ragged scream climbing up through his throat. He roars, his voice empty of purpose, of thought.

Another sensation intrudes upon the pain. It is no more pleasant, but the dragon welcomes the distraction. He shudders, retches, and vomits blindly onto the ground. He does not see that it is his own newly formed lifeblood, does not hear the hiss of steam as it strikes the ashes, does not notice the glow as they float around him.

He would not care if he did.

The pain is worsening. His wings spasm in agony as muscles wrap over bone. Scales attach and are pulled taut, pressing down like a hot iron held against flesh. Veins and arteries snake and twist through him, every inch of their growth like a burning wire threaded beneath his skin.

The pain grows and builds unceasingly. And Alduin suffers.

He writhes in darkness, thankful that his sight has not returned. He does not want to see.

Instead, he remembers.

The vision rises slowly in his thoughts, delayed by the shriek of anguished nerves. He was in Keizaal, what the mortals call Skyrim, perched atop a cleft of rock beneath the southern mountains. He had voiced the resurrection thu'um, calling Vuljotnaak from his eternal rest.

He watched as the dragon's corpse dug itself free of the burial mound, writhing about as organs and flesh grew over dry bones. He had seemed disoriented, confused. Perhaps in pain. But Alduin had been at the height of his arrogance and delusion, and had paid little mind to whatever discomfort he was putting his brother through.

Vuljotnaak had never spoken of his rebirth; none of them had. But Alduin remembers that they screamed just as he is now. It sickens him to think that he subjected them to agony such as this. Once again, he muses that this is perhaps a just punishment.

Then the pain overwhelms him again, bunching into a massive wave that builds and crests but refuses to break. Alduin screams again as rationality is buried beneath the red haze of pain. This time, it does not resurface.

Alduin roars in anger and pain. Mindless, he thrashes in the darkness, seeking anything to lash out against, to perhaps inflict a fraction of the pain that consumes him.

The opportunity arrives. His eyes return, though the vision is bleary and dim. A spot of purple draws his attention.

It is a small creature, assuredly no threat. He can see the shallow rise and fall of its chest, can smell the sweat and confusion emanating from its tiny body, can hear the blood pumping through its veins.

A growl rumbles low in his throat. He does not know if this being is responsible for his pain, does not know if killing it will bring him reprieve. He does not care.

He tucks his wings to his sides and takes a step forward. The motion sets his nerves screaming with renewed vigor. He ignores the pain and takes another step.

The creature is shaking, its body tense as though struggling against itself. Wounds open, blood fills the air with a coppery scent. It has not yet noticed him.

The pain is too much. Alduin tips forward, his wings catching and supporting his upper body. He begins to crawl.

The creature stills. The wounds close with a hiss of steam. Its eyes open and it looks at him, looks through him. Even through the fog of pain and animalistic fury, Alduin pauses. Something has changed.

Its body seems to be on fire. Flames lick and crackle over fur. Sparks leap from its tail like fading stars. Embers dance on its mane.

The creature speaks in a tone that does not fit its meager frame. Its voice rolls out like thunder, wise and powerful beyond reckoning. The words are meaningless to him, nothing more than garbled nonsense. But the voice…

It is familiar.

It is infuriating.

The dragon's hesitance shatters, and Alduin's neck darts ahead, jaws opened and ready to snatch the creature up.

Its body glows, and a ribbon of light stabs into his chest. Alduin is thrown back into the wall, his scales blistered and scorched, a nimbus of burning air surrounding him as the heat diffuses.

Alduin staggers to his feet, snarls mindlessly, and charges again. The creature's attack is already prepared. Magical darts strike his legs and wings. A bolt slams into his throat, and he is driven down hard against the floor. The creature shouts again, but Alduin hears little, understands even less. There is only the rage and blood pounding hotly in his skull, only the need to rip and tear and kill.

Let it attack. Let it force him to the ground a hundred times over.

Eventually it will tire. Its resistance will end. And it will die.

Another step, another lance of energy. The creature is weakening, this attack barely staggers the dragon, and he is moving forwards even while the beam strikes ineffectually against his chest. He stands over the creature now, wings outspread, his neck arched high and ready like some coiling serpent.

The creature seems to shimmer, its form blurring even as Alduin lunges, mouth opened wide as an underworld abyss lined with great piercing teeth.

And time stops.

* * *

><p>She glided low over the Everfree forest, eyes half-lidded as the cool air streamed over her face and mane, her attention set on the swelling and receding voices in her mind.<p>

It would be difficult to explain to a non-magical being. As best she could describe, the telepathic network would be visually similar to the fluid and ever-changing sky.

Normally a vast, blue expanse, it would become dotted with clouds as unicorn soldiers throughout the kingdom exchanged communications. Daily reports and issued orders would appear as separate and individual puffs of cumulus, while larger troop movements might take the shape of long altostratus curtains.

Now however, it was largely clear, only a few lofty wisps of cirrus as various stations checked in.

Nothing to report. No unnatural or aberrant events had been detected. There had been no sudden or unexplained surge of magical energy.

She was preparing to sever the link when it happened. From the corner of her eye came a vibrant burst of colors. She turned to look, saw the chromatic halo expand, had the briefest of moments to recognize the sight, and then came the bullwhip crack of a sonic boom.

Celestia started, her wings nearly locking in surprise. Behind her, the squadron of pegasi broke formation as several members were temporarily startled out of flight. The princess hovered in midair, trying to calm her racing heart. A part of her was ecstatic and gleeful as she determined that the rainboom was obviously the sign they had awaited. However, it had certainly not been what she expected.

A beam of light shining down from above? Sure.

A disembodied heavenly choir chanting exultation? Why not?

But a pressurized shockwave detonating a few miles away? Definitely not.

What was it Cascade had said? _"Assuming it's not some supernatural light show that the whole world'll be able to see."_

She couldn't help but chuckle. Perhaps the general had a gift for precognition?

The rainboom began to dissipate, the colored ring breaking away and vanishing into the air. Immediately, the telepathic network blared with activity, dozens of voices chiming in like fields of altocumulus littering the sky.

"Did anyone else see…"

"… that roar just now?"

"…was thunder? Thought the EWS canceled…"

"I've got something! Energy signature coinciding with…"

"MAINTAIN COMMUNICATION DISCIPLINE!" Cascade's voice roared out over the others, a towering cumulonimbus that drowned out the excited babble. "IF IT'S NOT A MAGICAL DETECTION, I DON'T WANT IT BROADCAST!"

There was a brief pause, and the majority of the voices fell silent. Those that continued spoke quickly, their words rushed and breathless.

"Recon Post H-11 reporting. Tracking a signal, wait, check that, a pair of signals appearing outside Cloudsdale! Damn near concurrent! Coordinates as follows…"

"…is N-5… confirmed signal inside Manehattan. K-3 reports conflicting position… may be in motion…"

"…ward side of the Bridle Range. What the hay would it be doing way out there?"

Celestia could only hover, trying to process the barrage of information slinging back and forth within her mind. She found herself almost paralyzed, unable to decide how to initially act.

Finally, she sent a rapid burst of orders to every listening unicorn, instructing them to narrow their searches to the aforementioned areas and pinpoint the locations of these signals. They were under no circumstances to approach or confront the Element bearers. They were only to locate and positively identify the ponies.

Altering course, the alicorn headed for Cloudsdale. The rainboom had originated in that direction, and two of the Elements seemed to be nearby. It was as good a place to start as any. At least until the next message reached her.

"Your majesty! We've tracked another signal, this one to Canterlot! We… we think it's coming from the School for Gifted Unicorns."

Celestia paused in midflight, a smile tugging at her lips. "Wonderful news. Have you identified the pony in question?"

No response. She asked again.

"Well, princess," the voice said uncertainly. "We don't know. We can't get close. Something strange is happening over there."

She felt a twinge of concern. "Strange? In what way?"

"There was a burst of magical energy, and then some kind of explosion that blew the roof clear open. Now, there's been three separate energy flares, but it's not like any magic I've seen before. Until we identify the source, we don't want to risk getting closer."

Celestia bit her lip and threw a glance over her shoulder. The two Elements in Cloudsdale could wait. She probably should return and investigate this matter herself.

Changing direction, she flew past her startled guards and headed back to Canterlot full speed.

* * *

><p>Akatosh could feel Twilight's body go rigid, every muscle stretching and tightening until they seemed ready to snap. His essence spread unchecked until each and every cell burned with the power of a god. The power built further; the filly's skin began to split and tear, blood dripped from her eyes, her mouth, her ears. Deep within, a great and terrible heat began to grow. Organs blackened, blood hissed as it neared the boiling point.<p>

It was almost too late before he noticed the frail body of his host bursting into flames, only a twitch away from being devoured in the divine inferno that would herald his physical manifestation.

No!

Akatosh held back, forcing the bulk of his power away. The effect resembled a child using their hands to try and plug a crack in a dam. Still, it was enough to spare the pony's life. He slowed the transfer, using what little energy arrived to reverse the damage he had wrought. Once assured that her life was no longer in danger, he prepared for the task at hand.

The Aedra had not expected things to proceed this way. He had planned to separate the dragon's soul from his body prior to the hatching, painlessly resurrecting Alduin as an empty shell before returning his mind and memories intact.

But now, repairing Alduin's mind would have to wait. A mindless, ravaging god was the last thing this world needed, and Akatosh needed to diminish that power before proceeding any further.

As to accomplishing that, he had two choices. The first was to appeal to whatever shred of Alduin's personality remained. If the dragon possessed enough control to submit, then the process would be quick and simple.

If Alduin would or could not cooperate… then the only choice was to batter him into submission and forcefully contain him.

Akatosh hoped it would not come to that.

The high-pitched shriek of claws against stone, the heavy thud of a large object striking the floor.

Akatosh took control of the unconscious unicorn and opened her eyes. A black shape loomed above him, a nightmarish specter of spikes and blades. Eyes blazed, lips curled back over fangs in an unmistakable sign of aggression. Alduin was ready to kill.

"**Alduin," **he shouted, projecting his own voice over that of his host's, hoping that it would somehow reach his son's fractured psyche. **"Hon Daar Zul! I command you to stop!"**

The dragon reared back, apprehension flickering in his eyes. Then he was darting forwards, mouth opening wide.

Akatosh cursed and fed his power into Twilight's body once again. Careful to avoid damaging her, he channeled it up and through her horn, throwing a crackling spear of concentrated energy. It caught Alduin in the chest, lifting the dragon off his feet and smashing him into a wall. The marble cracked under the hit, Alduin was barely winded.

He was dumbfounded. That blast had been a killing blow; a volatile mixture of divine energy and the unicorn's own magic. It was strong, far stronger than anything in this world could survive. His own dragon offspring would have been rendered immediately comatose!

And Alduin had shrugged it off. For a god who represented the very concept of invincibility, seeing his powers fail was more than a bit unsettling.

The dragon was up and advancing. Akatosh struck again, more out of reflex than any conscious action. Twilight's horn glowed, his power twined with hers, and he loosed a hailstorm of glowing needles. Each barb could have blown a hole through six inches of solid steel. Even a Dremora Markynaz in full regalia would have been ripped to shreds. They struck Alduin's hide and shattered, leaving only burned patches of scales in their wake. But Alduin stumbled beneath the assault; collapsed to the floor.

Akatosh felt hope. If he could just subdue him, just keep him down…

Alduin's tail lashed, his wings beat furiously. The dragon gave a snarl and struggled to rise.

"**STOP RESISTING," **Akatosh yelled. **"DAHMAAN, OFAN HIN OV, FEN DRUN DREM!"**

Alduin's only response was a bloodcurdling roar. He charged once again, easily pushing through the last, sputtering beam that Akatosh was able to fire. It was no use. The dragon was too enraged to be reasoned with, too powerful to stop.

Equestria's time was up.

Fortunately, time was something that Akatosh always had in abundance.

The god blinked. The air surrounding him grew thick as water, dust kicked up by the dragon's claws froze in a windblown cloud. Alduin stood poised above him, suspended on the verge of attack.

The possessed unicorn sank to the floor, drawing a slow and shaky breath. From his perspective, phase-shifting had bought this world an instant, an hour, a millennia of reprieve. But it could not last. He could slow time to an infinitesimal crawl, but the dust would still settle to the floor in a manner of weeks. Years would seem to pass, but given enough time, Alduin's teeth would eventually sink into flesh, and this vessel would die.

Akatosh considered his options. Now that he was frozen in time, Alduin was vulnerable. But the energy expenditure of containing him while remaining phase-shifted was near unimaginable. It was impossible to draw enough to do both.

Nor could he possibly subdue Alduin on his own. What little he could safely transfer through the pony was not enough, not without channeling the full weight of his powers through the child's body. But such an act led to only one conclusion. One that Akatosh had witnessed centuries ago.

Martin Septim… that had been the man's name. The last in a long line of royalty. Akatosh remembered bursting out of the man's withering form, feeling the mortal's essence burn to a cinder. The man had willingly consigned his body and soul to destruction, knowing full-well the price of summoning an Aedra to the mortal plane, knowing it was the only way to save his world.

But this pony had not known, could not have known, and he refused to sacrifice her as a means to correct his own mistake.

But what else could he do, when it took everything he had just to keep the time-flow in check?

The answer seemed simple. He would need help.

Where to turn for that help was a more complicated matter.

Calling upon another of the Divines could suffice. He had little doubt that Stendarr or Kynareth would be glad to answer his summons. But in the end, that would solve nothing. Their arrival would require the same heavy cost as his own: a physical body to anchor and consume.

There were other choices, but could they even make a difference?

Lesser et'Ada would only serve to further enrage the dragon.

Enlisting the aid of a mortal would be more akin to offering Alduin a snack than presenting him with a challenge.

Not even Alduin's brethren could hope to match him in single combat.

With his options so limited, there was only one place to which Akatosh could turn.

Oblivion.

To say that this was a choice borne of desperation would be a grave understatement. Anyone with the slightest understanding of the Daedra would realize that it was a ridiculously foolish idea. It did not take a master conjurer or a Psijic monk to know that even the basest of the creatures were fickle, dangerous beasts that were just as likely to kill their summoner as to offer their aid.

The Princes were even worse. The most patient and benevolent among them was still prone to acts of rage-filled genocide. Inversely… well… Akatosh would not even dream of calling on Mehrunes Dagon.

He would need to choose carefully, decide which among them would be most disposed to saving a world of mortals. Meridia was a likely choice. Or maybe Boethiah? No. He was trying to save Alduin, not get him killed a second time.

Sanguine's idea of help would be to get the dragon stone-drunk and passed out.

Perhaps Mephala? No, any aid from the Webspinner would only bring greater ill in the future.

The future… Azura might be his best option. After all, she had once guided the Nerevarine on his quest to save the island of Vvardenfell. The only other Daedra to so openly cooperate with mortals had been…

Akatosh paused, his borrowed eyes going wide as an idea took hold. At first glance, his plan was appropriately insane. Out of a pantheon of the most depraved spirits in existence, he was going to call on the most unstable of them all. A god who used death threats as greetings, who executed subjects for the crime of growing facial hair.

Still, he had been a mortal once, had even saved the world before his apotheosis. Perhaps he would welcome the chance to play hero once again?

Standing, Akatosh moved to the far side of the room, almost beneath the ragged hole in the ceiling. He took a breath, counted down from ten, and shifted back to normal time.

There was sudden rush of air, and Alduin's head grazed the floor, his jaws snapping on nothingness. Akatosh lifted his head to the sky.

"**Strun…"**

Alduin wheeled around at the voice, eyes seeking his prey.

"**Bah QO!"**

Thick, black clouds roiled in the sky above. Rain poured into the room, its heavy drops soaking the pony's coat. Akatosh waited, knowing that the summoning could only proceed at the storm's height.

Lightning tore through the clouds, a peal of thunder shaking the room before the flash had vanished. Alduin stopped his advance, growling warily as another bolt arced past a window.

Akatosh lowered his head. **"May this prayer travel far beyond the sight of men and mer, to the undying spheres where chaos reigns. Guide my steps, Watchman of the Golden Road. You who holds the Bitter Mercy for they who are worthy."**

Alduin began to move closer, but slower now, his eyes darting to the storm raging overhead.

"**Through Mania and Crucible, through Dementia and Bliss, let my words reach the very heart of the Asylums. I demand your presence, lord of the Shivering Isles."**

Akatosh lifted his head and screamed into the heart of the thunderstorm.

"**SHEOGORATH! I SUMMON YOU HENCE!"**

A bolt of lightning rushed down from the clouds, striking the floor mere feet from Twilight's hooves. Akatosh had already shifted back to fast time, leaving rain drops hanging in midair, clouds piled overhead, and Alduin once again frozen in mid-step. The figure standing between them, however, was not affected by the freezing of time.

He was unlike anything Equestria had ever seen. He was tall, supporting himself on two legs that looked far too skinny to hold him. He was finely clothed, his garments split down the middle in hues of purple and red. Aside from the snow-white hair on the top of his head and the matching beard, his skin was pink, pale and bare. Golden eyes blinked rapidly, and his mouth fell into an outraged scowl.

"What is the meaning of this," the bearded apparition yelled. "I've been summoned? I hate being summoned! Why do you think I had statues of myself dropped all over Tamriel? Well, besides improving the landscape with my dashing good looks!"

Still shaking his head, he pulled a two-pronged fork from his pocket and began picking his teeth.

"Now, if I'm here, that means a mortal called me here, and that means there's a mortal in serious need of a smiting! Whoever you are, reveal yourself so I can chop you into scrib bait! I'll tear out your ribcage to use as a bookshelf for books I don't have! I'll peel off your skin to write letters I'll never send! I'll turn your blood into a disgusting and unpopular beverage and sell it at your funeral!"

Akatosh coughed. **"Hail, madgod! It was I who called you here."**

The man's head tilted down, anger melting into confused bewilderment. For several seconds, he stared at the purple pony in wide-eyed mystification. "You! And just what in the name of Namira's unholy tits are you supposed to be? Some kind of miniature painted horse thing?"

Still frowning, Sheogorath reached down and patted the unicorn's head. "Well, I certainly can't gut and flay something as adorable as you, that's for sure! Haven't seen anything so cute since I tried to cross-breed a Nix Hound with a Kwama Queen!" He chuckled. "Guess I'll have to let you off with a warning, this time."

"**You are too kind, Sheogorath," **Akatosh said, head still bowed.

The Daedra scratched his head. "What's wrong with your voice, anyway? A tiny thing like you, and you sound more like Peryite after a bad head cold."

"**I am merely inhabiting this body for a short time. In truth, I am Akatosh, Aedric god of time."**

Sheogorath gasped, shocked at the knowledge of being summoned by one of his antithetical opposites. The man's body trembled, began to shake, until finally he threw back his head and cackled with glee.

"You're serious! You, the big cheese of the Nine Divines, lurking about in this little pony's body? That's the best thing I ever heard! And here I thought taking a vacation in Pelagius' screwball noggin was impressive, but you! You go around possessing the bodies of talking livestock! Brilliant! I can't wait to tell Sanguine 'bout this!"

Akatosh sighed. **"I am flattered that you find such pleasure in my choice of vessels, but I did not call you here for your own amusement. You see, the fate of this world hangs in the balance, and I desperately require your aid."**

Sheogorath paused, hiccupped, and finally forced down his laughter. Wiping a tear from his eye, he straightened up and looked back down at the Aedra.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't quite catch that. It almost sounded like the big, stuffy, stick-up-his-arse originator of the universe was asking me for help. Must've had some muck in my ears." He bent forward and cupped a hand over his ear. "Care to repeat that?"

Deeply questioning his choice of Daedra, Akatosh again voiced his need for assistance.

This time, Sheogorath doubled over in laughter, trying and failing to wheeze out a coherent response. A look at the unicorn's irritated glare was too much, and he fell onto his back, hands clasping his stomach, still chortling at the top of his lungs as he rolled across the floor.

Then he opened his eyes and looked up. The laughter died immediately.

"Say," he asked. "Did you know there's a godsdamned dragon standing right behind me?"

"**He is the reason I summoned you here. Prince of Madness, may I present Alduin, first and most beloved of my sons."**

Sheogorath leapt to his feet and circled Alduin's body, examining every inch of the dragon.

"Amazing," he said, coming to a stop next to Akatosh. "So this is the famous Alduin, is it? He's a lot bigger than I expected! The stories don't do him any justice!"

"**I was not aware that you knew of him."**

Sheogorath laughed. "Oh of course, he's quite a celebrity amongst the Daedra. 'The one that got away,' so to speak. Everybody knows about his little exodus through Oblivion, smashing in and out of planes, giving us all a bit of fun as we chased down his merry little flock."

The madgod sighed. "Afraid I never got to meet him myself though, but Haskill talks about him all the time. Apparently, he and my predecessor had a bit of a run-in back in the Dawn Era."

Akatosh was intrigued. **"He met the first Sheogorath, then?"**

"He certainly did. That was a long, long time ago, you understand. Back in the days of yore, when I was but the future descendant of a handsome twinkle in some Nedic's lustful eye..."

* * *

><p><em>The hammer struck with a loud, echoing ring. The metal head shattered into pieces, the object it had impacted did not.<em>

_Sheogorath looked back and forth from the ruined tool to the undamaged crystalline obelisk. Screaming in frustration, he threw the broken handle aside and shook his fists at the sky._

"_How dare he! It's bad enough that the great faceless bastard comes stomping in to wreck the whole place, but he even leaves indestructible phallic symbols filled with his nasty minions all over the landscape!"_

_Sheogorath was not happy. The first of what he had decided to call the Greymarches had swept over his lands with all the delicacy of a drunken daedroth. By the time he had awoken, his idyllic and insane kingdom had been devastated and changed to a flat, grey country of boring monotony, which had also been overrun by a collection of ugly, metal knights! They were pointy, they were violent, weren't much for conversation and they had no sense of humor whatsoever! Heartily offended, Sheogorath had smashed them like overripe fruit flies, stuffed them back into the obelisks and set about repairing the damage they had done, mostly by returning the plane to its former insanity._

_Now the Mazken and Aureals were back in his service, and the swamps and grasslands and mountains and islands were restored, teeming with playful and lethal forms of grotesque wildlife._

_All was as it should be… except these damn crystals everywhere!_

_Swearing, Sheogorath poked himself in the chest. "Jyggalag, I hope you're happy in there, you stupid git."_

_He would have continued this bout of self-deprecation had one of his servants not come running up. She was a dark-skinned humanoid clad in black armor, her expression stern and professional. Her race referred to themselves as Mazken. Sheogorath called them Dark Seducers. He felt it gave them an exotic flair. They never bothered to correct him._

"_Your grace!" Nelrene cried, falling to one knee before the Daedra. "Our scouts bring word of trespassers to the Isles. Even now, they are gathered near the ruins of Fain!_

_Sitting back against a rock, Sheogorath stroked his chin. "Trespassers you say? And what are they up to?"_

_Nelrene stared impassively. "They are trespassing, my lord."_

_The madgod leapt to his feet, looking to be on the verge of panic. "What do we do? We've never had trespassers before! Quick, wake the masses! Alert the shoemakers! Man the lifeboats! It's time to confront them!"_

_Rushing up to Nelrene, he grasped her shoulders and began to shake her. "How do I look? Is my hair still attached? My beard straight? Do I look princely enough to fashionably unleash divine punishment on impertinent lesser beings?"_

_The Mazken seemed perfectly unflustered by her god's mental breakdown. "You look as imposing as ever, my lord. As to confrontation, the Aureals have joined our forces in surrounding these trespassers. Shall we attack?"_

_Sheogorath paused. "Shall we? Is that what one does after catching intruders while they're intruding? Or do we throw a parade? Or invite them to tea? Offer a key to the city? Give them a spanking? Violent disembowelment?"_

_Nelrene merely gestured to the north. "Perhaps seeing them in person will help you reach a decision?"_

"_Excellent idea," he said, clapping his hands. "Let's go have a look at these visitors, shall we? If they're snappily dressed, I might be merciful."_

_His eyes narrowed. "But if one of them has a beard, they're all going to die."_

_Fortunately for the dragons, not one of them possessed a single whisker. Sheogorath stepped over and around the prostrate forms, feeling rather incensed that his glorious presence was being ignored._

_Striding up to a large black beast, he tapped it several times on the snout with his walking stick._

"_Meril!" He barked at one of the Aureal. "Why are they all just lying about? Shouldn't they be groveling, or cowering, or SOMETHING?"_

_The golden-skinned woman cleared her throat. "My apologies, your grace. I believe they remain motionless due to fatigue. When we first noticed their arrival, they were barely able to remain in flight. Upon reaching land, they quickly collapsed and have not moved since. Forgive me for suggesting it, but they seem to be too tired to properly acknowledge your divine countenance."_

_He scoffed. "What kind of excuse is that? I do believe I am insulted!" Bending down, he began angrily poking the dragon's forehead with his staff. "Come on, state your purpose here you… you… thing, you! Wake up! Wake up wake up wake up wake up…"_

_The dragon's head shot up, jaws grasping and pulling away the madgod's staff. With an almost sadistic grin, he bit down and broke the wooden staff in two._

_Sheogorath stared at his empty hand. Looking back at the dragon, he created another staff and pointed it accusingly. "How dare you! You know how hard it is to find one of those? Wood doesn't just grow on trees! Who do you think you are?"_

_The dragon struggled to rise, sank back to the ground, and finally settled for lifting his ebony head to meet Sheogorath's eyes._

"_I am Alduin," he said weakly. "Firstborn of Akatosh, king and guardian of dragonkind."_

"_Akatosh, eh?" Sheogorath leaned on his staff and tapped his chin with a finger. "So you're an Aedra-spawn then, are you?"_

_The dragon gave a nod of reply._

"_Thought so. Well, you're a long way from Aetherius now, my scaly friend. It makes me wonder just what brings a creature like you all the way down to my little corner of Oblivion. Sightseeing? Peddling sweet rolls, perhaps? Taking a survey?"_

"_We are seeking a path to Nirn," Alduin said with a grimace. "To make our home amongst the newly formed mortal races."_

"_Well, it doesn't look like you've had too much luck with that!" Sheogorath looked over the crowd of dragons. Most were still unconscious; those awake were nursing wounds of various severity. The Daedra shook his head. "Typical tourists, so unwilling to admit when you're lost. Too proud to ask for directions, so you end up blundering from plane to plane. Picking fights, disturbing the peace, scaring the scamps…"_

"_Directions," Alduin interrupted. "Then, you know of a way out of Oblivion?"_

_Sheogorath gave a condescending snort. "Course I do! What self-respecting Prince wouldn't know the ins and outs of his realm?"_

"_Will you take us there?" Alduin could barely disguise the hope in his voice._

_The madgod only smiled. It was not a pleasant smile._

"_What's the rush? You must all be tired after wandering for so long. My home is your home. Take some time and rest, stay for a few days, or perhaps an eternity."_

_Alduin was taken aback. "What? You… you wish us to stay?"_

"_Of course!" Sheogorath exclaimed, as if the answer was obvious. "If you haven't noticed, my kingdom's a bit sparse at the moment! Just think, you all could be the first subjects and inhabitants of the Shivering Isles! Founding citizens, even!"_

"_Quite an offer, but surely you don't need us." Alduin gestured to the armies of Mazken and Aureals. "You already possess a great many subjects."_

_Sheogorath made a face like he had bitten into something sour. "You obviously don't know much about Daedra, do you? Sure they might seem ideal, what with being alive, intelligent, immortal, sufficiently voluptuous. What more could you want, yes?"_

_He sighed. "But it comes with a price. They're bound to me, irreversibly, unbreakably tied to my will. And that makes them damned boring! No innovation, no creativity, no passion, nothing outside of obediently carrying out my orders!"_

"_Watch, just watch! I'll show you," he declared, beckoning a group of soldiers over to them. Arranging them into a line, he began giving orders._

"_You," he pointed at an Aureal. "Hop on one foot!" Striding over to the next, he commanded, "Spin around in circles!" Then he moved on to a pair of Mazken and simply demanded that they kill one another._

_The four Daedra immediately complied, going about their tasks with the cold intensity of the most dedicated tax collectors._

"_Just look at them," Sheogorath ranted. "No enthusiasm at all! Not even dismay or resentment! They just do what they're told!"_

_He walked up to the hopping Aureal and gave a hard push to her shoulder. The woman immediately fell to the ground, not making a sound or showing the slightest emotion._

"_You see? They bring order to the realm. They bring stability, but no life, no growth, no change! It makes my teeth itch!"_

"_But you," he said, walking back to Alduin. "Your kind is truly free. You act as you deem fit. You obey and serve only when you choose. That is what I want! A kingdom full of beings that can live and act and think for themselves! Can fall to madness in a thousand different ways! It'll be glorious!"_

_Sheogorath beamed at the dragon. "So what do you say, my friend? Will you and your kind remain, the first to settle in this mad new world?"_

"_No," Alduin said._

_Sheogorath looked as though he had been slapped in the face with a dead fish._

"_What?"_

"_I must refuse," the dragon repeated. "It is Nirn where we will reside. Its people will need guidance and protection. We cannot forsake them."_

"_You, you're refusing me? ME?" The Daedra seemed unable to comprehend such an outlandish concept. "You can do that? What am I saying… free will! Of course you can! So refreshing, I love it! But… you refused me! I hate it too! Wait, can I do both?"_

"_I am sorry, but my decision is final," Alduin stated._

"_That might be, but do you really think you're in a position to be making that kind of decision," Sheogorath asked silkily. As if reacting to his mood, the assembled soldiers began unsheathing their weapons._

"_Your people are tired, vulnerable, and completely surrounded by my troops. I doubt a one of you could manage to get airborne before they dragged you right back down. All I have to do is give the order to bind your wings, truss up your legs, and we'll cart you all back to New Sheoth as easily as a clannfear hunting balliwogs!"_

_As if knowing that he could not deny that claim, Alduin tried a different approach. "Then why ask us to remain? Why not simply capture us at the first opportunity? It is because you've no use for prisoners. You want willing subjects, and you know that bringing us by force will accomplish nothing."_

_He grinned, knowing that he was gambling with his own life and the lives of every dragon around him. "Go ahead. Take us, if you wish. But know that we will never obey you. We will rebel at every opportunity, take every chance to escape. We will not stop unless we succeed, or until you are forced to kill us all."_

_The two stared each other down. As the tension increased, the Daedric armies tightened their encirclement, and the few conscious dragons were struggling to their feet, wings unfurled and ready._

"_Bah!" Sheogorath said. "You are a sassy one! Not only arguing, but taunting me of all things? This is exactly what I'm talking about. Your little group hasn't even been here an hour, and already the Isles are far more amusing than ever before!"_

_The madgod crossed his arms. "But you're right, of course. We are at a bit of an impasse. You don't want to stay, I don't want to let you go. So how can we resolve it?"_

_Alduin had no answer, and so he watched as Sheogorath stood in contemplation, a mischievous smirk slowly forming on his lips._

"_How about a little bet," he asked at last._

_The dragon eyed him with suspicion. "What type of bet?"_

"_Oh, a very simple one," the bearded man promised. "You win, I let all of your little dragons go. I'll even show you to the rift that borders Mundus!"_

_Sheogorath steepled his fingers and grinned. "And in return, you remain behind. One dragon in exchange for the rest."_

_Alduin fell silent, not that Sheogorath could blame him. It was quite a sacrifice, trading himself for the safety of his people. Of course, if he was hesitant about winning, just wait until he heard…_

"_And if I lose?"_

"_Then I show you to the rift, you pass on to Mundus, and all of your brethren remain behind."_

_Sheogorath delighted in the look of horror on the dragon's face. Leaving the rest of them behind in exchange for his own freedom. Hah! Damned if he did, damned if he didn't. Clavicus would be proud!_

"_Then I refuse this wager of yours," Alduin snarled through his teeth._

_Sheogorath grinned. He had expected this. Time for the ultimatum._

"_Certainly. I'm not an unreasonable man. If you don't want to play, I can't make you."_

_He straightened up and signaled the armies. "In that case, we'll do things the hard way. I'll order my troops to begin rounding you up, you'll all doubtlessly resist, blood will be shed, some might escape, most will be caught or killed, and any portal you manage to create will just as likely spit you back out into some random point in Oblivion."_

_The dragon turned and looked over the crowd. Only a handful of the dragons were awake and ready to fight or fly. The vast majority, however, were still lying motionless on the ground. Sheogorath made a show of inspecting his fingernails. "Alright, ladies! Get ready to catch some lizards! On my command! Five… four… three…"_

"_I accept."_

_Sheogorath looked up with a toothy smile. "What was that?"_

_The dragon's head was bowed, his voice defeated. "I accept your terms."_

"_Excellent, excellent! I knew you'd see reason in the end!" Sheogorath motioned his soldiers to clear an area. "Now, this bet will be decided simply by fate and luck. You need only make a single choice, and then await the result!"_

_The Daedra had moved to the center of the clearing, still grinning wildly. Alduin watched as he pressed his thumb and middle finger together, then snapped._

_There was a brief flash of light, and a humanoid cat appeared. It looked around in confusion, only to be lifted into the air with a wave of Sheogorath's hand._

"_We'll decide," Sheogorath announced, ignoring the wild hissing and spitting of the Khajit. "By the ancient and traditional method of flipping a cat!"_

_Another snap of fingers, and the Khajit vanished, or seemed to. After a few moments, Alduin heard a faint shriek from somewhere overhead. Looking up, he saw the Khajit miles above them, tumbling ass over elbows as it fell towards the ground at terminal velocity._

"_Call it," Sheogorath said casually._

"_Call it," the dragon repeated in bewilderment. "Call what?"_

"_You know. How's he going to land? Heads or tails? Come on now, you're running out of time."_

_The Khajit was growing closer, screaming at the top of its lungs._

"_Better hurry," the Daedra advised._

_Only a few hundred feet up…_

_Alduin winced and yelled, "TAILS!"_

_SPLORCH!_

_The Khajit's body struck the ground and burst like a full waterskin, splashing blood and liquefied organs over the ground. It was unquestionably dead, but how had it landed?_

_Alduin stared._

_Sheogorath stared._

_One of the Mazken coughed._

_A dragon licked its lips._

"_Damn," Sheogorath cursed at the result. Turning back to Alduin, he conjured a second Khajit, levitating it between them._

"_Best two out of three?"_

_Alduin responded with a glare._

"_Oh fine." He turned to the Khajit and lowered it back to the ground. "You're off the hook. Go shit in somebody's boots or something." With a snap of his fingers, the cat was gone._

"_No competitiveness at all," he sighed. "You're such a spoilsport. Oh well, I'll let you all be for now. Soon as your group has recovered, we'll lead you to the rift."_

_It was a full day before the dragons were ready to travel, but true to his word, Sheogorath had left the dragons alone until they were healed and rested. From there, he and a full battalion of Aureal and Mazken escorted them west to The Fringe._

_There, they found the reassuring shimmer of the planar boundary._

_Paarthurnax leaned close and whispered, "We can escape at any moment, tell me you do not still plan to honor his demand?"_

_The black dragon shook his head. "He has abided by the terms of our wager. I must do the same."_

_Facing the boundary, he shouted the planar thu'um._

"_Kren… Gron LEIN!"_

_The portal flashed into existence. Alduin turned to address his brethren for the last time._

"_The journey is at an end, for myself, and for you all. Through this doorway lies Mundus, a home and future for our kind. But it is a step I cannot take. In return for safe passage, Sheogorath demands that I remain behind._

_The dragons began to whisper amongst themselves, confusion and dismay plain on their faces._

_Alduin continued. "You have trusted in me to this point. I ask that you trust my final command as well. From this moment, you will follow Paathurnax as your lord. He is strong and wise in ways that I could never be. He will guide you on this final trek."_

_Alduin moved to the side and beckoned with a wing. "Go forth, my brothers. Do not mourn for me, but rejoice that my actions secured the path ahead."_

_One by one, the dragons moved through, each favoring Alduin with a thankful glance or a softly spoken wish for peace. Finally, only one dragon stood beside him._

_Heyvkahsil dipped his head. "It has been an honor to follow you, dreadful though the voyage has been."_

_Alduin smiled. "You are a true and loyal friend Heyvkahsil. I wish you the best."_

_The other dragon averted his eyes. "Thank you, my lord. I only ask that you can forgive my insubordination."_

"_What insubordination have you committed?" The black dragon asked in confusion._

_His companion smiled. "This."_

_Heyvkahsil struck out with his tail, slamming it into Alduin's chest. Alduin was driven backwards, and a second hit sent him falling through the gate._

_Sheogorath cried out angrily as the rift winked shut; the dragon turned to face him and prostrated himself on the ground._

"_What treacherous trickery is this," he demanded, stomping up to the dragon and shaking a finger. "Explain yourself, and it better be good. No, it better be great! With a dance number! Or I'll make you into a belt. Several belts. No, a whole closet-full!"_

_Heyvkahsil bowed further. "Forgive me my lord, but I did not violate your terms. I believe your exact words were 'One dragon in exchange for the rest,' where they not?"_

_Sheogorath froze, his mouth hanging open._

"_Well, as you are no doubt aware, there is still one dragon standing before you. Perhaps not the one you wanted, but it fits with your demands."_

_Sheogorath looked torn between laughter and temper tantrum. "I don't believe this; you're just as sassy as he was! Is that some kind of family trait?"_

_With a shake of his head, he stepped closer to the prone dragon. "Well, I suppose you'll have to do. And I have to admit, that was some good innovation you showed, knocking him through the portal and all with no warning whatsoever. Alright, you're hired! What's your name, my dear lackey?"_

"_Heyvkahsil, my lord."_

"_Hey-vuh-kah-sil? Well, that's not going to work. Not quick enough, not catchy enough. Let's see…what about… Haskill! Yes, that's the ticket. Your name is Haskill now!"_

_Haskill sighed. "As you wish, my lord."_

"_As I do wish! Now, let's be off. Much more redecorating to do about the isles. Then, we've got to repopulate the place! Look for some mortals in need of maddening!"_

_Haskill nodded and rose, only to find Sheogorath waving his arms and shouting._

"_No, no, no! This won't do, not at all! You're far too tall, and it's not good manners to give your ruler a crick in the neck every time he tries to have a conversation!"_

"_And what would you have me do, my lord? Shall I crawl when in your presence?"_

_Sheogorath grinned up at the dragon. "Tempting, but I've got a much better idea on how… cut you down to size…"_

* * *

><p>"And that's how I teamed up with Malacath to help the orcs save Tibedetha!"<p>

Akatosh rolled his eyes, though inwardly he was troubled by the news on Heyvkahsil. He would have to speak to Paarthurnax about that later.

"**A fascinating tale. But how does it relate to the matter at hand?"**

"Well, it goes to show that I think these dragons of yours are just dandy, wonderful to have around the house! Whatever help you need with the prodigal son here, I'll be happy to provide!"

The god of madness paused and gave a shrug. "Wait, what AM I helping with exactly? I still have no idea what a fine little equine like yourself even needs from me!"

So Akatosh explained, telling the violent and dreary tale of Alduin's fall from grace, his eventual death, his planned rebirth, and all the mishaps that had occurred since his egg's discovery. Sheogorath listened with intense concentration, frowning in concern, nodding his head at various points, occasionally munching on some strange objects from a pouch on his belt.

By the time the story was finished, Sheogorath seemed to have tuned him out completely. The sudden utterance of his name snapped the Daedra back to attention. Sheogorath looked down at Akatosh, then the object resting in his palm.

"Aww, you hungry? You want one? Huh? Huh? Sit! Sit, girl!" He waved the object in front of Twilight's nose, cooing as if he was speaking to an infant. "Come on! That's a good pony! Who wants a fishy stick?"

"**Sheogorath! Would you please pay attention?"** Akatosh demanded in frustration.

The bearded man fell back in surprise. Chuckling sheepishly, he popped the fishy stick into his mouth. "Oh, right. Sorry about that. Forgot that it was really you in there, you know… the… well…" he flapped his arms like wings.

It was official. He should have summoned Azura instead.

"So let me see if I understand correctly," Sheogorath said. "Your pride and joy has completely lost it and now you need me to wrangle him back into line. Well, lucky for you I'm in a helpful mood! Let me just conjure up some gruesome abomination to duke it out with the little delinquent."

"**Wait, that is not what-"**

"No, no, it's fine. Let me see, what could be a match for a dragon. I've got it! How about a giant, albino mudcrab!"

"**No, just listen-"**

"What, allergic to shellfish? Fine then, a lich! No wait… a NAKED lich! Yes, that's it! Some kind of nudist, undead monstrosity! Wielding the Staff of Chaos, tripping on skooma, and with a heart as black as coal!"

"**NO!" **Akatosh roared, his patience finally at an end. **"Please… just LISTEN."**

The Daedra pouted. "Are you sure? Not even a flock of blighted cliff racers?"

Akatosh glared in response.

Sheogorath muttered and sat down, placing his chin in his hands. "Fine then, let's hear your piddling excuse for a plan."

"**My greatest concern is the damage to his mind. While extensive, it is not a serious problem. I will seal his memories deep into his subconscious, ensuring that they gradually return to him as the years pass by. He will remember himself, but slowly. Safely."**

Akatosh paused, half-expecting Sheogorath to be ignoring him once again. To his surprise, the Daedra remained attentive.** "Until that time, however, he is dangerous. I require your aid in diminishing that threat, both to himself and to the denizens of this world."**

"I think I know what you're asking," Sheogorath said. "You don't want him stomping around, squashing ponies, eating ponies, panicking ponies, or doing anything that will no doubt upset the status quo of this perfect little world. Well then, I think a physical change will be in order. Some way to… cut him down to size… so to speak. And luckily for you… I have just the thing." Peering around as if to check for eavesdroppers, he beckoned Akatosh over.

"It is an ancient and terrible artifact," he whispered. "Men have fought over it. Mer have died for it. It moves mountains, and mounts movements! It complements any outfit, and is fashionable at all levels of society. It is…" He leaned closer.

"THE WABBAJACK!" Sheogorath screamed, leaping to his feet. With a dramatic flair, he thrust his hand into the air as if to catch a falling object.

Nothing happened.

The god of madness looked at his empty palm in confusion. Clearing his throat, he lowered his hand and tried again. "The… WABBAJACK!"

Akatosh merely stared. Sheogorath gave a sheepish grin common to men suffering from 'performance anxiety.'

Grumbling to himself, Sheogorath braced his feet and wrapped both hands around thin air. Still mumbling, he began to pull.

"Don't know what… every time I… he let go of the stupid thing?"

It was like watching a fisherman reel in a non-existent Abecean Bluefin. Sheogorath would tug and pull, his arms slackening for a moment before he yanked on nothingness. But just as Akatosh was ready to end the summons and try his luck with a less insane Daedra, Sheogorath gave a might tug, and there was a flash of light.

Sheogorath was now holding a carved metal staff. At its head were three carved faces, each displaying a different emotion. And hanging from the end, fist still closed tightly over the staff, was a very surprised looking Nord.

Sheogorath peered at the white-haired man for a moment. "Well look who's here… YOU! How 'bout that?"

Not waiting for the man to reply, Sheogorath gave the staff a few rapid shakes, quickly dropping the Nord to the floor.

"Sorry about that, but I'll be needing this back. Fate of a world, and all that. I'm sure you can relate."

The man looked wildly about the room, giving Akatosh's pony body an incredulous stare, looking back at Sheogorath, then finally taking notice of the dragon standing behind him.

"ALDUIN!" The man shrieked.

Sheogorath snickered. "Yes, yes, yes, it's a regular family reunion isn't it? We have the proud father, the estranged eldest son, and the half-breed younger sibling that was only conceived to vicariously correct its parent's mistakes. I suppose that would make me the wild and crazy uncle who provides comedic relief and corrupts the children?"

The Nord scrambled to his feet; his hands fumbled with a scabbard, only to realize that the sheath was rather empty of any usable weapons.

"You're already trying to kill him again," the Daedra asked in surprise. "My, but you're a violent little bastard aren't you?"

Undeterred, the Dovahkiin squared his shoulders and took in a breath.

"Fus…"

Sheogorath clapped a hand over his mouth before the shout could be completed, resulting in the bulk of the thu'um bursting out of the man's ears.

"Sorry, but no fratricide indoors. Besides, we have plans for yonder dragon."

The man wheeled around, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Sheogorath patted his cheek. "There, there. I know it's difficult. Your mortal enemy still draws breath, your epic quest lies uncompleted, and now you're being told to shut up and go home. Hard to believe, but this doesn't concern you. Now then, off you go!"

Lifting the Wabbajack, Sheogorath bopped the man over the head, causing him to vanish with a flash of light and a small 'pop' sound.

"Now then," he said jovially. "We've got the staff, and we've got the target. Are we ready to Wabbajack?"

Akatosh nodded, and Sheogorath stepped forward, twirling the staff between his fingers.

"Any requests?"

Akatosh thought, considering what dangers or trials might await in this new world. Finally, he gave the details. He did not think Alduin would be too incensed at the change of size or of color. The replacement of wings for arms though… that might be a bit harder to accept.

Sheogorath nodded. "A complete restructuring. I like it!"

"But just so you know… I hope that memory plan of yours works. Because otherwise he'll be able to reverse this little change in a heartbeat."

"**I will concern myself with his future. All you must do is complete your task." **Akatosh said with a smile.

The madgod gave the staff one final spin, throwing it into the air like a baton. Catching it behind his back, he leveled it at the frozen dragon. "Ready!"

Akatosh blinked, and time flowed once again.

Alduin halted in mid-step, his prey nowhere in sight. Now, there was a strange, two-legged creature standing before him. Its eyes were a golden-yellow, and it held an object that hummed with power.

A wide grin split the man's face. "SURPRISE!"

The staff fired.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Draconic Translations:

**Hon Daar Zul-**

Hear my voice

**Dahmaan, Ofan Hin Ov, Fen Drun Drem-**

Remember me, give me your trust, and I will bring you peace.

**Strun Bah Qo-**

Storm, Wrath, Lightning (Draconic shout for creating a thunderstorm)

**Kren Gron Lein-**

Break, Bind, World (Draconic shout for planar travel)

* * *

><p>And it's done. Finally. Apologies to everyone who's been patiently waiting. Had to Rewrite damn near every section at least once before I was halfway satisfied. I sincerely hope this chapter was worth the wait.<p>

Read, review, enjoy! See you at chapter 7.


	7. Clean Slate

Finally here. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 7- Clean Slate

_By the pricking_

_Of my thumbs_

_Something wicked_

_This way comes_

_William Shakespeare- Macbeth_

_.  
><em>

* * *

><p>.<p>

It was truly an amazing time. In the space of minutes, the hopes and dreams and fears of two worlds moved inexorably closer to fulfillment. To recap:

The Elements of Harmony had finished bonding with their chosen wielders.

Princess Celestia, accompanied by her most trusted subjects, was attempting to locate these chosen ponies.

Twilight Sparkle had unwittingly resuscitated a world-devouring dragon god.

Akatosh was frantically and unsuccessfully attempting to salvage an otherwise disastrous situation.

Alduin was trying to kill everything in sight.

Sheogorath… was just being himself.

But few ponies were aware of these events, much less their future consequences. Indeed, most ponies had little difficulty recovering from the initial shock of the Sonic Rainboom. Despite an abundance of shattered windows and frazzled nerves, the majority of Equestrians simply cleaned up the damage and resumed their daily routines.

The citizens of Canterlot, however, quickly realized that something significant was occurring. For them, the moments after that rainbow-colored ring faded from the sky were like a surreal dream. Or a nightmare.

Before anypony had a chance to catch their breath, they began to feel a charge in the air. Hair and fur stood on end, and the sudden tang of ozone filled their nostrils, the scent thickening as a shrill buzz grew louder and louder. At the School for Gifted Unicorns, nearby spectators watched in dread fascination while beams of light shot up from the roof and into the sky, their vision dazzled when every window flashed with light and the top of the building exploded in a shower of debris.

Silence filled the streets, ponies staring as splinters of wood and chunks of stone landed around them. Most were too stunned to move. Others seemed to be waiting, afraid of what might happen next.

Then they heard it. A deep, crescendoing sound that rumbled out of the ruined structure, one that any pony instinctively feared.

The roar of something massive, something predatory, something enraged.

Ponies young and old froze in their tracks, hearts pounding with fright. Civilized equines, they had never encountered a situation such as this, and so they were rooted to the spot, even as every fiber of the bodies yearned to flee and escape this unseen menace.

Another roar sounded out, and their paralysis broke.

The entire city lurched into motion as ponies scrambled in every direction, ducking into stores and crowding into restaurants in their desire to hide themselves. But even off the streets, their relief was short-lived.

They heard the boom of colossal feet against stone and a voice faintly yelling in a foreign tongue. Curious, some of the braver ponies peeked out of doorways and windows.

A light flared from the school, accompanied by the shrieking howl of a magical blast. There was a terrible crash, and some observers could swear they saw the entire building shake. Then the roar came again, louder and filled with anger.

Panicked, the ponies barricaded doors and covered windows before huddling in corners or under desks, holding one another close as the noise built into a horrific cacophony.

A flurry of harsh, piercing cracks that sounded like breaking glass.

An agonized shriek and an echoing thud.

The voice, screaming loudly enough to be heard from Tartarus itself.

A sputtering trill that was swallowed up by a final, triumphant roar.

And then silence.

One by one, doors and windows cracked open as ponies looked up at the ominously quiet school. Bewildered, they turned to one another for confirmation. What had happened? What was making those sounds? And most importantly, where did it go? With no forthcoming explanation, they emerged from their impromptu shelters, unaware that the worst was yet to come.

"**Strun… BAH QO!"**

The shout was thunderous, seeming to echo off the mountainside and between buildings as it pummeled the eardrums of the terrified ponies. It was enough to send a few galloping back inside, but most were too busy looking at the sky in amazement.

The air surrounding the school heated immediately, the rising updraft forming a massive, anvil-shaped cloud that climbed higher and higher until it piled up at the very roof of the world. Within moments, the supercell was large enough to cover the entire mountain, blanketing Canterlot in shadow as the air pressure dropped steadily lower.

The black clouds at the base of the storm began to thicken, swelling up until they looked almost ready to burst. A few drops of rain plopped harmlessly down on the streets and ponies.

Then a blinding flash lit the sky as several bolts of lightning arced through the clouds. And just as if they had been split, the clouds opened and the rain came rushing down.

What had once been a shower turned into a massive downpour. Hard, pounding drops stuck with the force of hailstones, causing the ponies to immediately rush back into their previous shelters. Lightning tore through the curtains of rain, and thunder boomed around them like a stallion's hooves slamming against a steel drum. But gradually, a new sound rose through the rain and the thunder. A pony's voice.

Peering out into the storm, they could see a pegasus pony racing down the streets, pounding on doors and yelling into windows.

"Are there any pegasi in there?! I need every able-bodied pegasus out here, now!"

As he drew closer, they recognized his voice and sand-colored coat. It was Stillwater, but what surprised them most was the tone of his voice. The normally stolid councilor seemed on the verge of panic.

Desperate for an explanation to these events, the ponies crowded back into the street, peppering the stallion with questions.

As though he was afraid of being blocked by the crowd, Stillwater gave a pump of his wings and took to the air. "We don't have time for this," he yelled over the rising wind. "Every earth and unicorn pony needs to get to shelter before this storm gets worse!"

Stunned by his ferocity, the flightless ponies drew back, allowing the pegasi to move closer. Satisfied, Stillwater alighted on the street and motioned at the towering mass of clouds with his hoof.

"Listen close! We need to break this storm up while there's still time! Anyone with weather control experience is with me! We'll be near the ground hitting the wall cloud as a delaying action. The rest of you, get as high as you can! If you can kick through the anvil and get to the boundary layer, we might have a chance at venting the updrafts before-"

The flat moaning of wind rose to an unearthly wail as a dark funnel-shaped cloud descended rapidly out of the thunderstorm. The ponies watched in horror as it sidewinded downwards, growing into a massive black wedge before slamming into the ground.

Right on top of the School for Gifted Unicorns.

There was a loud rush of air, and then winds were sweeping down the streets, flinging objects into building as the tornado tore apart any nearby structures.

Stillwater cursed and took to the air, bellowing at the awestruck ponies. "All of you that can't fly get inside now! The rest of you, follow me!"

The pegasi flew after him as the others ducked back into their shelters. With no time to evacuate, they could only hunker down and pray for a miracle.

* * *

><p>.<p>

It was a mistake to meet that blast head-on.

The flickering sphere of red light that leapt from the staff was miniscule, feeble. Nothing in comparison to the earth-rending attacks that he had previously overcome. Certainly nothing that he should fear.

But deep down, buried beneath his instinctive fury, he knew this was somehow different. Pervasive. Subtle.

Still, he charged. His legs coiled and released, sending him into a rapid leap accelerated by a surge of his wings. He barreled towards the bearded figure, a primal exhilaration filling him as the orb broke against his chest.

There was a flash of red light and he was surrounded by billowing clouds of smoke. It felt as though he had been drenched in water, and then every muscle in his body went numb. With gravity pulling him along for the ride, he burst through the smoke and hurtled towards the bearded man.

The man gave a startled yelp and leapt to the side as Alduin crashed into the floor. The dragon's body glanced off the stone and back into the air, finally striking and collapsing the southern wall.

Shaking himself free of the tingling numbness, Alduin staggered to his feet. Something felt… different. His scales were raw and itching, and a strange ache covered his back.

A measure of clarity had returned. He looked around, bewildered. Where was he? Broken walls on either side, openings in front and above, and a shrieking wall of wind and clouds blocking any view of the outside. He could remember facing a storm such as this before. But where? And why?

"How in Hammerfell?!" A voice rang out from behind. It was familiar, and Alduin wheeled around to look for its source. His gaze landed on the white-haired figure, and his skull exploded in pain. Images flashed through his mind, too quick to process, too vague to understand. He knew this creature… this… what was the word? This man?

"It… it didn't work? Hmm, nope! He's still big, still sharp, and still angry. That's certainly not optimal. Wonder if the staff is out of juice? I swear, if that idiot Dragonborn used up all the charge, I'm giving him to the Gatekeeper as a chew toy!"

Alduin shuddered as another flash of pain ran through his head. Dragonborn. What did that word mean? If he could just remember…

Alduin hissed in pain, and the man turned its attention back to him. Its jaw fell open in surprise, and then it began laughing uncontrollably.

"Ha ha ha ha haha, oh, oh do excuse me! But, ha ha ha!" The staff nearly fell from its hands as it clutched its stomach and doubled over. "I… I guess it wasn't a complete failure after all. You're… much more _colorful _than before… ha ha ha ha!"

The dragon's thoughts flared with hate and the anger returned full-force. This nuisance, this pest had the gall to mock him! Whatever it was, however he had once known it, it was going to die!

And so, unmindful of the fact that his razor-edged scales had changed into a smooth, soft hide, or that the sculpted spikes of bone along his back had been replaced by rounded spines, the now purple and green dragon lowered his head and charged.

Right into another crimson orb of magic.

Another flash of light, another cloud of smoke. But this time the effect was far worse than simple numbness. This time, he could feel a terrible wrenching in his wings, could feel the membrane and veins withering away, the bones cracking and popping as they changed in shape and density.

He hit the ground with a resounding boom, rolling to a stop and moaning in agony. He could still hear the sounds of his body rearranging itself, could feel the muscle and sinew winding down his limbs as the bones continued to morph. Pain rippled through his tail with a series of rhythmic cracks. Pressure tightened at his shoulders until it seemed as though his wings would snap off at the base.

It was over in an instant, though to him the change had lasted hours. He shuddered, drew air into his raw and burning lungs. His wings felt thick, unfamiliar. There was a marked shortness in his tail. He tried to rise, but his body felt wrong. Too heavy in some places, too light in others. He collapsed back to the floor, wrapped in the pain of his shrieking nerves. What was happening? Why did his wings feel so…

He looked to the side and froze, letting out a flat, uncomprehending grunt at what he saw.

His wing was gone, replaced instead by a muscular foreleg. He stared at the five talons, separated and free of the tissue that had once connected each bone. The wrist, the elbow, it all looked and felt so alien that he was unsure if it was even his own limb. But somehow, he knew that the bearded man had done this. That staff and its red orbs had changed him.

He was shaken out of his stupor by the sound of boots tapping against stone. The man was coming towards him. Alduin still could not remember who or even what it was, but he knew that it was dangerous. And he had to get away.

He pushed himself up on his feet and took a single step; only to fall once again as his newly acquired legs became tangled with his hind ones.

The man was coming closer. Alduin forced himself up, tried to back away. His heart was pounding, well aware of the threat posed by the staff in the man's grip. He snarled, knowing it would do little to dissuade the man.

It stopped, looking at him as if surprised. "Oh, still have some fight left in you? Well, don't get used to it." The man chuckled and raised its staff. "Here in a minute, you'll find yourself with a great deal less bark AND bite."

Alduin tensed, looking past the man and through the ruined wall. The storm continued to rage, and though the wind lashed and tore at the structure, it seemed a safer choice than remaining here.

A red light began to glow at the staff's tip. "Now then, that last shot did quite a number, so I think one more ought to finish things. What do you say, best two out of three?"

Best two out of three…

Another flash of revelation. Another series of memories, images and sounds. He could recall only the scantest details about the man, but even that was enough to send his adrenaline skyrocketing.

Not a man, this creature was a Daedra! An immortal, immoral madman who doled out cruelty or compassion purely on whimsy. A being of indescribable power.

And he was at its mercy.

His memories scattered, his cognizance barely existent, Alduin made the instinctive choice.

He pushed off all four of his legs, launching himself towards the gap in the northern wall. The Daedra shouted something, but he was already hurtling past, too quickly for it to catch him. But there was a rush of air, and time itself seemed to pause, and then it was standing before him, staff glowing as brightly as the sun.

"GOTCHA!"

Alduin shut his eyes as the red orb slammed into his chest.

Sheogorath grinned in triumph as the cloud of smoke hid Alduin from sight. That last hit had been a doozey. There was no way that scaly little bastard was any more than shin-high by now…

Then a purple and green shape flew out of the smoke, crashing into Sheogorath's chest and knocking him to the floor. The Daedric Prince screamed and began to thrash wildly.

"It's got me! Oh sweet, suffering skeevers it's got me! I can feel its hideous fangs! All is lost! Monks, monks, monks!"

"**Sheogorath…"** Akatosh's perpetually annoyed voice cut through his histrionics, and the madgod sighed.

"Hush! Can't you see I'm in the middle of being mutilated? Now then, where was I? Oh yes! ARGH! It's too late for me! Save yourself! Tell… Kynareth… I… always… loved…"

"**Sheogorath!"**

"Don't you know you're not supposed to interrupt a tragic death scene? Terribly impolite." Opening his eyes, he fixed the possessed pony with a glare before gesturing to himself. "How am I supposed to convey the sheer agony of being torn apart by this giant, bloodthirsty..."

He looked down and noticed that curled up on his chest was a tiny infant dragon. The hatchling gave a quiet yawn and smacked his lips.

Sheogorath gave a weak laugh. "Well, you see, he was quite fearsome a moment ago! Give him a second."

The two deities watched raptly as Alduin snuggled closer and began to drool onto Sheogorath's coat.

At once, the Daedra resumed his thrashing. "ARGH! The drool, it burns! Saliva of death! I'm melting, melting! Who would've thought a pudgy little dragon like him could defeat my magnificent beardliness!"

Akatosh groaned and pulled Alduin away, carrying him to the room's far side. Sheogorath let out a frustrated huff and leapt to his feet.

"Bah, you have no sense of humor whatsoever! Anyone else would've understood the joke! Come on, omnipotent deity mauled by cute baby dragon? It's absurdist humor! Do you really have to be so damned stolid all the time? You must be a real bore at parties, and trust me I've seen some-"

Akatosh ignored him and lowered his son onto the small pile of ashes that remained from his rebirth. The hatchling shuddered and weakly lifted his arms, as though reaching out for the warmth he knew to be close by.

"Not to mention how it's seemed to translate to each one of your offspring, as well! I swear, it's like there's a gigantic stick jammed up your arse and you broke a piece off for each one of…" Sheogorath stopped, recognizing in a rare moment of tact that this was not a time for levity. Moving behind Akatosh, he placed a hand on the pony's back.

"You're doing the right thing, you know. Giving him this chance."

"**But is it a wise decision, loosing him upon this world after so many misdeeds, so many past crimes?"**

Sheogorath's face was the picture of indignation. "Now you wait just a minute! I don't care for what you're insinuating! I'll have you know that some of Nirn's greatest heroes started out as pardoned criminals."

The madgod snapped his fingers. His body changed into that of a thin, black-haired man, dressed in rags with shackles on his wrists. "Why, just look at me! Once a poor, falsely accused Imperial languishing in the dungeon, I was rescued by a doddering old emperor and his retinue of laughably ineffective guards!"

Another snap of the fingers, and the man was now dressed in simple leather armor and brandishing a rusty sword. "From there I was thrown, lost and unprepared into the cruel world. And what did I accomplish from these humble beginnings?"

*snap* The man was wearing heavy black and gold armor, an ebony claymore strapped to his back. "I rescued the bastard heir to the throne! Chased down a cult! Ate some cheese! Thwarted an invasion, and finally saved an empire!

Sheogorath returned to his normal form. "And after all was said and done, I ascended to godhood! Grew a lovely beard in the process! All while remaining a paragon of morality and deliberation."

Akatosh was unconvinced. **"Paragon of morality? You once destroyed an entire village by bombarding it with flaming dogs!"**

"They had it coming," Sheogorath scoffed. "But fine, if you need further examples. How about the Eternal Champion? Snatched from prison by Jagar Tharn's own apprentice to liberate the true emperor? Or the Nerevarine, imprisoned and exiled before embarking on a quest to save her homeland?"

He jabbed a thumb at Alduin. "Even your little Dovahkiin was all set to be judged, juried and executed before big brother here swooped in and tore the place apart. So don't act like his previous attempts at genocide are any cause for alarm. In Tamriel, social reprobation is almost a job requirement for heroism!"

"**Perhaps that is as much of a reassurance as I can expect,"** Akatosh said.

Sheogorath grinned. "That's still better than dissuasion, right? So come on, stop stalling and let's get to unscrambling the boy's head so you can send me home."

Akatosh hesitated. **"I think perhaps it would be best if I undertook that task alone. I doubt you've much skill in repairing a mind. More the opposite, in fact."**

If Sheogorath knew he had just been insulted, he didn't seem to care. "Then what are you waiting for? Send me off! It's nearly time for my daily sweetroll after all!"

"**Very well, I release you from my service. Go with my eternal gratitude, and that of my son, though it will be some time before he remembers this day."**

The madgod waved his hand dismissively. "Bah! No need for thanks. Just don't go spreading the news around! The last thing I want is a reputation as an Aedra's errand boy!"

His smile dropped slightly, and he looked down at Akatosh. "But, if it's not too much to ask, there is one thing you might do to repay me."

This was certainly unexpected. Half-dreading the answer, Akatosh nodded. **"Speak, and I will heed."**

Sheogorath paused to consider his words. When he spoke again, his voice had lost its overbearing brogue. "When you return to Aetherius, you might give my regards to Martin, and to Uriel as well," The madgod now spoke with a soft, Colovian accent. The voice of the mortal he had once been. "Let them know that they haven't been forgotten, by me or their people. Tell them… I'm keeping an eye on things in Cyrodil for them."

"**Of course,"** Akatosh placed a hoof on Sheogorath's knee and smiled. **"I am certain they will be pleased to know of your well-being."**

Sheogorath coughed harshly. "Well, they certainly ought to be," he roared, his voice back to its usual timbre. "After all, I'm the one they saddled with the brunt of the work on stopping that particular apocalypse! All they had to do was make speeches, pose dramatically, and die inspiringly! I was the one who got stuck trudging 'cross the continent, dungeon-diving, and knocking down each of those damned Oblivion Gates!"

Sensing that their moment of profundity was over, Akatosh gathered his magic. **"Fare you well, madgod, and may our paths cross again."**

"Hey now! You can't just dismiss me while I'm in the middle of-"

There was a burst of light, a soft 'pop,' and Sheogorath vanished into thin air.

The possessed pony blew out a long, tired breath. This one day had proven more exhausting than the previous two hundred years combined. But now, it was almost over. Just one more piece to set in motion…

Moving back to the broken wall, he looked out at the storm still raging overhead. It had done an admirable job of cloaking them from any outside witnesses, but he imagined the citizens of this land were none too pleased to have a tornado sitting motionless in their city.

"**Lok… VAH KOOR!"**

The wall of clouds buckled, denting outwards as though struck by an invisible fist. The winds and rain ceased as the storm broke apart, and Akatosh looked down at his borrowed form and smiled as sunlight filtered back into the room.

"**My deepest thanks to you as well, child. Though none may ever know of your role in this, it gladdens my heart to know that my son will not be alone. Sleep well, knowing that you have helped to save this world."**

There was a rush of air, and Twilight's eyes drooped shut. The pony's limp body slumped to the floor, and the spirit of Akatosh was formless once again. With no further resistance, he dove into Alduin's body, descending down through the broken ruin of memories. With the utmost care, he began pulling them close.

The memories and knowledge of any creature were not unlike a vast, woven tapestry. Each strand was unique and beautiful in its own right, but when twined and arrayed with others, it helped to form the story, the very identity of the being to whom it belonged.

Alduin's tapestry was frayed and tattered, tangled beyond recognition. Akatosh probed carefully, feeling the mangled strands and skewed images. His heart sank.

His son was almost beyond saving. The damage was too extensive to simply repair.

He was left with only one choice. Alduin's very mind would have to be unraveled and rewoven from scratch.

Alduin had awakened. He could sense the confusion as his son tried to make sense of the few memories that remained intact.

Regretfully, Akatosh took hold of the tapestry of Alduin's life.

And ripped it down.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Something had gone wrong. As much as she wanted to deny it, the evidence was right in front of her. And several miles above her, judging by the size of the storm.

They were nearly in sight of Canterlot when the clouds began appearing. They built quickly, and soon the entire city was covered. It was happening far too quickly to be a natural occurrence. Not even an army of pegasi could hope to stir up this kind of storm in so little time.

The base of the cloud had already deepened to black when they were still three miles out. The storm was truly massive, enshrouding the entire mountain and towering high over the earth. Celestia pushed herself to move faster. This storm was obviously of magical creation, almost certainly an Element's work.

And she knew exactly which one it was. She'd bet her crown on it. Now if only she could get there in time to stop it…

As if in reply, a tornado spun down from the cloud, its tip stabbing into the ground like a manticore's tail. Celestia's heart leapt into her throat, fear for her subjects overwhelming any other thought. Tucking her wings, she dove towards the city.

A crumbling object shot past, merely inches away from her head. She looked back to see one of her guards bank hard to the left, narrowly missing the broken chimney as it flew through the air.

Debris was hurtling past them on all sides. Broken trees, chunks of masonry, entire walls, broken carts, and a million more objects launched from the tornado's funnel.

She caught sight of a white shape to the left, and one of her guards struggled to fly alongside her.

"Princess, we have to turn back" he screamed over the howl of the storm. "It's far too dangerous for you to try and go through this!"

"I will not let my city be destroyed!" She screamed back, the wind seeming to rip the words from her mouth. "Take the squadron and retreat to a safe distance, but I am pushing through!"

She gave a pump of her wings and shot past the protesting stallion. Blue streaks of lightning scythed down from the clouds, washing out her vision with their glare. More debris streaked towards her, and her horn flared with light.

Lowering her head, she cleared a path through the wreckage. Flinging aside the smaller pieces, blasting straight through the larger ones. The winds were stronger now, and they pushed and tugged at the alicorn. She was shoved several hundred feet upwards, battled the rising air and fought her way back down. Her wings were straining with the effort, and she leaned onto her right side, plummeted and rose again like a foal on a carnival ride. Her necklace ripped away, two of her shoes were yanked from her hooves. But she pulled free of the downdraft, stabilized her descent, and continued on.

She passed over the city, noting thankfully that it was largely untouched. The storm appeared to be immobile, its epicenter fixed over a single building. Her school. She was certain of it.

Small multicolored shapes flitted above and below her, and for one terrifying instant, she thought she was seeing the bodies of her subjects being tossed about by the wind. But the details became clear, and she saw that there were dozens of pegasi circling the tornado, occasionally darting in and striking at the clouds above it.

A tan stallion caught her eye, and she struggled towards him, futilely screaming his name through the wind. The rain was falling harder… her wings were soaked and heavy… but she was almost there… his gaze turned to meet her. Then his head angled down and his mouth opened in a yell.

Celestia looked.

From out of the black funnel an object was streaking towards her. She barely recognized it but for the color. It was a train car, bent and twisted by the winds. Through the windows, she could see tattered seats and abandoned luggage tumbling about.

With no time to prepare, Celestia snapped her head downwards, firing a bolt of magic straight at the incoming missile. It struck the car with a boom, shearing half of it away.

But the remaining section was still rising to meet her. Her blast had sent it tumbling, and she could see the objects inside spilling out from the broken end.

Celestia beat her wings harder than she would have thought possible, even feeding magic into the air below to lift herself higher. But she was rising too slowly, and there was no more time to dodge.

She wrapped a shield of magic around herself in the last moments before the car hit.

Even with the shield, it hit with enough force to punch the wind out of Celestia's lungs. Pain exploded in her head, rattling through her skull as a muted roar filled her ears. It reminded her of being kicked full-force in the chin by Luna when they were fillies, and then she was sent flying backwards. Too disoriented to fight the shrieking winds, Celestia tumbled wing over wing through the black air. Dimly, she saw a tanned streak pass underneath her, and then there was warm fur and hooves against her shoulders.

She was falling more slowly now, and she could feel the pressure beneath her more clearly. Something was pushing against her, attempting to slow her descent. As she came to her senses, she felt more hooves against her coat, feathers scraping her back as they beat furiously against the wind. Whatever was below her landed shakily, and then she felt several hooves carefully lower her to the ground.

She lay there, for how long, she didn't know. She was eventually roused by a voice yelling over the sound of the falling rain and the wind. It was calling her name.

She lifted her head and immediately regretted the action. Bands of pain rippled down her neck, shoulders and chest, and she could already feel that her entire body was severely bruised. Carefully, she pressed each of her legs against the ground, probing for broken bones. She was lucky. Everything appeared intact. Sore, but intact.

When she finally opened her eyes, her vision was filled with golden armour and white fur. Her soldiers were huddled together around her, their bodies forming a makeshift barricade to guard against further debris. She noticed that a hoof was tapping against her shoulder, and she turned to see Stillwater's panicked face sag in relief.

"Princess, thank goodness you're alright," he said. "I was afraid I wouldn't be able to slow your fall. Luckily for us both your guards were nearby, or I… wait! Princess, you need to rest after a fall like that!"

Celestia pushed herself up, ignoring Stillwater's protests. "No time." She said. "Is everypony alright?"

"Wha… yes, yes of course. I mean, I managed to evacuate the two closest blocks surrounding the school, but there's no telling what kind of injuries this debris has caused!"

The alicorn nodded. "Then you know why we have to break this storm apart as quickly as possible."

"We've been trying as best we can," Stillwater said. "But we can't puncture through!" He gestured to the clouds over the tornado. "Whatever dent we make in it, the clouds reform immediately! I've never seen a storm like it!"

"It has to be of magical construction. And if the source is what I believe it to be," she looked up at the swirling funnel and extended her wings. "Then we have to get inside of it to take it down."

Stillwater flew up to eye-level with Celestia, his hooves waving frantically. "No milady! I can't let you fly into that thing! Look what nearly happened! The next time could be worse!"

"Stillwater, we don't have any other choice-"

"**VAH KOOR!"**

The sound boomed out from somewhere inside the twister. A massive hole blew through the wall of the funnel, sending dirt and rock flying out and over the city. The tornado crumpled, the bottom tip dwindling into a thin needle while the remaining half heeled onto its side before the entire mass dissipated into thin air. Like an unraveling carpet, the massive pile of clouds began to burst and scatter. The towering anvil split down the middle, and bolts of lightning arced between the two halves. Then the great masses of clouds began to shift. Cracks of azure spread out through the black, and sunlight began to pour through the final, crumbling pieces.

An unseen wind swept the last remnants of cloud up and away. Within moments, the skies were calm and blue over Canterlot.

Well, except for the rain of dust and debris. As objects showered down over the city, Celestia, Stillwater and the numerous pegasi could only gape in astonishment at the empty expanse.

Had it not been for the ring of shattered buildings at the heart of the city, no one would have suspected that a storm had even taken place.

Realizing that the way was clear, Celestia leapt to her hooves. She had to act fast. Whatever stroke of luck dissipated that storm, another might form just as quickly.

She turned to Stillwater. "I want you to take my guards, search the affected area as quickly as you can. Evacuate any injured ponies you find, but do not treat them until you've reached a safe distance from the school. We might not have seen the last of that storm."

Stillwater nodded. "As you wish, milady."

With her orders delivered, she took to the air with a flurry of wing beats. Stillwater and her guards would assess the damage, care for the wounded, see to the repairs. Right now, there was only one pony on her mind.

Foregoing the entrance, the princess swooped in through the broken wall, her eyes widening as she took in the chaotic state of the room.

Perhaps this was not Twilight's magic after all. With the potted plants, levitating ponies, and mismatched décor, it looked more as though Discord had stopped in for a visit.

Warily, she turned and looked over her shoulder, then at the floor beneath and finally at the ceiling, half-expecting the crazed draconequus to drop out of the sky and onto her head. Luckily, there were no 'pfoofing' flashes of light, no bone-chilling finger snaps, and no mariachi bands popping into existence.

She let out a breath she hadn't noticed she was holding. Well, that was certainly a relief. But then, where was… She spotted an unmoving purple shape from the corner of her eye, and Celestia dashed over to examine the unconscious filly. She was relieved to see that Twilight was merely asleep, no doubt exhausted from having unleashed such chaos.

Leaning down, the alicorn gently nudged Twilight with her nose. The unicorn mumbled and turned over in her sleep. Chuckling, Celestia tried again. This time, Twilight groaned and flung a foreleg over her eyes.

"Rise and shine, Twilight Sparkle," Celestia chided playfully. "I don't allow my students to laze around when there's work to be done."

As though she'd spoken a magic phrase, Twilight's eyes shot open, and the filly leapt to her hooves.

"Me? Student? Yours? Test? I? Passed?" The filly's mouth was moving a mile a minute, her expression filled with shock, disbelief and hope.

Celestia laughed. "Well, of course! I don't think I've ever come across a unicorn with your raw ability!" She gestured to the room around them. "Though in your case, those abilities are perhaps a bit too raw."

"Huh," the unicorn squeaked.

Celestia tapped her chin with a hoof. "You need to tame those abilities through careful study. Perhaps if I, well, first I think another test will be in order."

"ANOTHER test?!" Twilight thought she was going to faint all over again!

"Well of course! Undoing the effects of your magic will give me a better understanding of your control." The princess smiled and pointed up at the levitating unicorns. "And besides, we can't simply leave them floating about, now can we?"

Twilight gulped. She'd completely forgotten about that. What would the professors think? Would they be angry at her? Would they kick her out of the school? Or worse, what if they flunked her and THEN kicked her out!

Misinterpreting her panic, Celestia rested a hoof on the girl's shoulder. "Don't be nervous, Twilight. I can walk you through performing a counter-spell."

"Oh, no, no! It's not that," Twilight stammered out. She continued with a hint of pride. "In fact, I already know how to use it!"

The alicorn blinked in surprise. She knew that this filly was a bookworm, but already knowing a general purpose counter-spell at her age? Perhaps Cascade had been instructing her in his spare time?

"Wonderful! In that case, let me see what you can do."

Realizing that she had put herself on the spot, Twilight gave what she hoped was a confident smile and concentrated. To her amazement, a field of magic instantly surrounded her horn. What had once been a difficult, even strenuous process was now as simple as breathing in and out. Spurred on by this discovery, Twilight took aim and cast.

A series of flashes lit the room, and things returned to their normal state. The potted plants were replaced by her parents. The unicorn professors fell back to the floor with a 'thump.' The statue in the back shattered as Sweet Grass was freed from his stone prison.

The rows of chairs burst back into flames.

Twilight drew back in alarm, but before she could even remember if she had learned a counter-spell for counter-spells, Celestia had stepped forward and extinguished the fire. The purple filly felt everypony's eyes turn to her, and she braced herself for what was sure to be a scathing condemnation.

"Sweetie, that was amazing!" Her mother raced over, grasping her around the chest and tossing her into the air. "You did so well! Your father and I are so proud! I just can't wait to tell your grandfather about this!"

One of the professors hobbled over. "I must say, Miss Sparkle, I am duly impressed. That… display… was certainly enough to qualify you for entrance to our school. More than qualified, I daresay."

"Well, of course she's qualified," her father said. "With how much she's practiced and studied to get to this point, you wouldn't find another foal in Canterlot with better skills!"

The professor nodded. "I quite agree. Princess? On behalf of the advisory board, I place my full recommendation for Miss Sparkle's immediate enrollment!"

The girl's parents cheered, but Celestia remained silent. Her brow furrowed in consideration, and she finally shook her head. "No. I have decided that Twilight Sparkle will not be granted general admission to the School for Gifted Unicorns."

The room fell silent, and Twilight could feel her heart breaking at the news. Tears welled up in her eyes, but then Celestia turned to her with a mischievous smile.

"From what I have observed, she has proven herself more than your staff is capable of handling. Therefore, rather than have her follow the usual curriculum, I have chosen to personally instruct her as my student and protégé. That is… if I'm allowed?"

Twilight was frozen stiff, her eyes wide as dinner plates. The seconds ticked by, and finally Twilight's mother gave her daughter a gentle shake.

"Honey, the princess wants to teach you HERSELF! Would you like that?"

"YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEE EESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" Twilight screamed and leapt several feet into the air.

"One more thing," Celestia called up to her. Twilight flopped back to the ground. There was MORE?

Looking up, she could see the princess pointing at something. Turning her head, her eyes lit up at the sight.

"My cutie mark! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!"

As the overjoyed filly hopped about the room, her parents approached Celestia.

"Thank you so much, your highness, for giving her this chance." Her father bowed deeply. "I promise you that you will not regret it."

"I am quite certain I won't. I expect great things from your daughter."

Her mother snickered. "Well, if she takes after my dad, you won't be disappointed. It's going to make his day when he hears the news."

Celestia laughed. "I look quite forward to his reaction. Now, there's quite a bit to be done, but later today I'd like to speak with you both about-"

A pony cleared his throat behind her, and she turned to see Sweet Grass with his head bowed. His teeth were clenched, and she could see his shoulders trembling. Meeting her gaze, he said in a cracking voice, "Your highness, forgive me. Please, please forgive me."

"There is no need to apologize, my friend. In truth, I should be thanking you. Her test was a complete success!" The stallion flinched as though he'd been slapped, and she realized that there was something deeper to this. Kneeling down, she looked him straight in the eye. "Sweet Grass, what troubles you," she asked gently.

"It's, it's all my fault," he blurted out in despair. "I should have known it was a terrible idea, I should have refused, or returned it! I don't know what I was thinking! I swear to you, princess! I didn't mean for it to happen! I never wanted any harm to come to it!"

A chill ran up her spine. He couldn't be talking about… no, no it wasn't possible! It was safe and secure in her room!

"What are you saying," she whispered.

"The egg! Your egg," he wailed. "It… it was…"

Her chest tightened in pain, and a sense of nausea crept from her stomach and up into her throat. She was paralyzed, unable to think beyond a frantic, babbling denial. This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't! After all this time, the anticipation, the frustration, the joy, the sorrow, it couldn't be gone! But why else would Sweet Grass be throwing himself at her hooves begging for mercy?

Words finally passed her lips in a flat, dead tone. "What happened?"

Sweet Grass cringed and attempted to explain. "I… I brought it here, to use as a portion of the test. I was told that a barrier surrounded it, that it would allow us to measure Miss Sparkle's magical abilities. I didn't think she could break through it, but she… she…"

"I did it," the filly blurted out from behind them. "I'm so sorry; I thought it was the point of the test!

Celestia turned back, and Twilight shied away when their eyes met. The alicorn's face was a rictus of grief and pain. It was several moments before she could voice a question. Even then, she only managed to repeat what she had last asked.

"What happened?"

Almost afraid to answer, Twilight nonetheless lifted a hoof and pointed across the room. "Well, I sort of, hatched it."

Those words smashed clean through the fog of confusion and sorrow that had built around her, and Celestia spun around to follow Twilight's hoof. At the other end of the hall, lying atop a pile of ashes was a dragon. Its scales were a deep, royal purple, and the spines along its head and back were a vibrant green. It cried out softly, stretched, and then its brilliant green eyes were looking curiously around the room.

Celestia's jaw slowly dropped open as she stared in wonder at the infant. For so many days and nights she had dreamed of this moment, but now it seemed so unbelievable, so surreal.

It had finally happened! Her child was born!

She continued to watch as the hatchling examined its surroundings. When its gaze turned to her, she felt a burst of hope. Its attention was fixed solely on her. Did it recognize her? Did it already know her?

As if in answer, the dragon pushed itself up on one claw, the other lifting as it tried to crawl towards her. But the claw slipped, and the infant plopped back onto the ashes with a dismayed cry.

Her paralysis broke, and Celestia gave a euphoric squeal and rocketed into the air. Speeding across the room, she swept the hatchling up in her forelegs and pulled him against her chest. She could feel the scales rubbing against her fur, could feel his breath on her coat, could feel his heart beating strong and healthy.

Celestia wept in pure and utter joy. Floating higher, she pulled back and looked over the hatchling. His head lifted, and for the first time, she locked eyes with her son. Her heart seemed to burst with love, and she found herself weeping yet again.

She snuggled him to her chest as she slowly drifted back down to the floor. "You're finally here," she whispered. "You're finally here with me."

* * *

><p>.<p>

"-ranting! How would you…"

Sheogorath looked around in bewilderment. He was in a vast hall carved of stone. A carpeted walkway stretched down the length of the room. On either side, streams of water flowed, and torches of blue and orange flames cast eerie shadows on the walls. Behind him sat a great marble throne, its back set into the Tree of Madness and the fountainhead of his powers.

He was home.

"Ha! Just couldn't let me have the last word now, could you," he shouted into the air. "Well, fine! Use me, abuse me, and toss me aside without so much as a note on the nightstand! It's not as though I'm the type of man to take offense."

No, he was not the type of man to take offense at such a slight. What did offend him was not being welcomed on his return. That would have to be remedied.

"Haskill, I'm hoooooooome," he called out. No reply.

"Haskill," he tried again. "I've got a message from your father! He wants you to know that he's very disappointed in you! You and all your delinquent siblings. He says it's been several thousand years, and still no grandchildren! What do you have to say for yourself?"

Nobody answered. The hall was as still and silent as a grave.

He reclined back into his throne. Immediately a deep, biting cold shot through his body. Sheogorath frowned and looked down. His throne was coated with ice. Frost crystals were already appearing on his coat, and his hands were stuck, half-frozen to the stone.

Sheogorath pulled himself free, ripping chunks of skin from his palms. He watched the skin heal, wondering what had made his throne so cold that it froze flesh on contact?

But it wasn't just his throne. The temperature of the whole room was plummeting. Ice crept up the pillars; the two streams of water were frozen solid. His breath steamed out, only to freeze in midair. One by one, the magical torches extinguished, and the room fell into shadows.

Growing suspicious, Sheogorath leapt up from his throne and opened his hand. A ball of flame crackled into existence. He cupped his second hand over the fire, and then slowly pulled it away. The flame expanded, bringing heat and light back to the frigid room.

But the flame could only illuminate so much. Dark, ominous shadows still twisted through the hall. Cautiously, he stepped down from the dais and onto the walk path. In the meager glow of the fireball, he could see the entirety of the room. Empty.

Well, this certainly was strange. After his rather abrupt departure, he would have thought the place would be stuffed full of his guards. For the entire place to be deserted? It pointed to either an unwelcome intruder or a hilarious prankster.

And Sheogorath hated both intruders and pranksters.

"Alright, who's out there! Is this your idea of a joke? Freeze him to his throne? Alright, I admit it, you got me! Now come out already, it's time for your smiting!"

"I'm afraid no one can hear you, madgod." A voice hissed out from the darkness.

Sheogorath looked around. Nothing but ice and darkness. "Well, you seem to hear me just fine," he said. "So why don't you explain where the rest of them are?"

"They have been dismissed. I did not wish for them to interfere in our… business."

Definitely an intruder. Or maybe a lust-filled admirer? He found himself hoping it was the former. Judging by the thing's voice, it was as physically attractive as an Udyrfrykte. If that was the case, he didn't want it anywhere near him. That kind of sexual debauchery was more Sanguine's hobby than his own.

Sheogorath knew he was going to regret this. "Well, what are you creeping around for? If you have business with me, get out here and get on with it! I have better things to do with my time than play guessing games in the dark!"

"Very well."

A figure was slinking out of the gloom. Sheogorath's eyes narrowed in recognition.

Another Daedric Prince. Perhaps the last one he wanted to deal with.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Alduin was awoken by someone yelling, the sound loud and almost painful in his ears. He was confused. How could there be yelling? Hadn't he died?

But the voice sounded real enough. And… he could feel the breeze on his face, and the grainy texture of something like sand beneath him. Such things could not exist in the Void. But how?

His thoughts were sluggish, but he recalled the conversation with his father. The admission of guilt, the promise of redemption. Then that must mean, that he was alive!

He wrenched open his eyes. They burned in the sunlight, and he dropped his head and squinted through the pain. Everything was unfocused. Blurry. He wondered how long it had been since he'd last used his eyes.

The details slid into clarity, and Alduin found himself in awe.

He lay on the floor of a hall, greater in scope than any seen before. Its walls stretched away for what seemed to be miles, and its walls climbed impossibly high before terminating at an open field above.

By his estimation, the room looked big enough to allow the entirety of his brethren to fly about unimpeded! It made him wonder just how larger the creatures inhabiting this world might be, if their structures dwarfed him so completely.

More voices joined the first, and Alduin turned, anxious to see his masters in this new world. As he expected, they were massive creatures. Many were several times his size, with the largest being a gargantuan, white-winged behemoth that looked more than capable of crushing him underfoot.

He was puzzled. Akatosh had told him that he would be serving creatures weaker than himself in an effort to atone for his past sins.

Why then was he placed among such giants? To humble him? To dissuade him from violence? He had to admit, so far it was working.

Alduin paused in his observations. There was something strange about these creatures. Familiarity, like he had encountered them before. His eyes ran over their features. The familiar shape of the bodies, the manes and tails, their hoofed feet. It puzzled him that he should be so forgetful. Why was it so hard to remember?

Dimly, he recalled seeing them before. Not so grandly colored, of course. And… there was some object atop their backs, or a cart pulled behind them. Mortal riders, perhaps? The answer came, and he nearly laughed. Of course! They were akin to the beasts of burden and transport from his own land. But, what where they called? He could not find the words in the common tongue nor his own. He had no memory of either.

He looked over each of the creatures, debating whether to announce his presence. Though several milled about, only two drew his attention.

The first was impossible to ignore. Standing far taller than the others, its white coat seemed to glow with an inner light, and its violet eyes spoke of age and wisdom far beyond its peers. Strangely enough, its appearance was disheveled. Its mane was unkempt and frazzled, scratches covered its body, and for some absurd reason it seemed on the verge of tears. Even still, he could tell that this was a being of authority, of importance. The others seemed to crowd around it, perhaps in reverence or in fear. A leader, perhaps? Or royalty, as the mortals called it?

The other was much less impressive. The smallest of the creatures, its coat was a soft purple, and its horn barely extended beyond the hairs of its mane. It looked timid, weak, compared to the larger creature. But somehow he knew that was not the case. He felt as if he knew this one. There was an aura of familiarity around it, of comfort. It made him feel safe, but why?

The purple one extended a hoof, and he realized that it was pointing in his direction. The larger one's attention turned towards him, and he found himself lowering his gaze in an instinctive display of submission.

He could tell that it was shocked by his presence, and why not? For all he knew, dragons did not exist in this land, much less appeared out of thin air for inexplicable purposes. Best that he announce himself quickly. He only hoped they spoke his tongue…

He would rise to his feet, revealing his name and commitment to their service. Then a low, sweeping bow with outstretched wings and a pledge of loyalty to their people and sovereign. A humble gesture, one that he hoped would be accepted. He had no desire to immediately make enemies of an entire world.

At least, that's how he intended it to work. His actual introduction consisted of falling back onto his stomach and sending a miniature cloud of ashes into the air.

He managed to lift his head and spat ashes from his mouth. Before he could try again, there was a flurry of wing beats, and he looked up to see the white creature coming straight at him.

'So much for a civil introduction,' he thought ruefully. With no time to dodge, he could only brace himself and wait for the oncoming impact.

But rather than trample him into the floor, the creature caught him in its forelegs and bore him into the air. Alduin's stomach lurched at the sudden movement, and then they were rising higher, and he was being pulled against the creature's chest. He felt himself beginning to panic, not out of fear, but confusion. What was it trying to do? Crush him? Restrain his wings so he couldn't fly? Smash him against a wall?

But instead of pain, he felt the touch of warm fur. The embrace was soft and gentle, as though it was afraid of gripping him too tight. Its heart thumped quickly, almost nervously against his ear.

What in the world was going on?!

It drew back, and he looked up to meets its eyes. His confusion only deepened. A smile was on its face… but it was crying?

Before he had time to dwell on the matter, he was pulled back into its embrace. Only now, its chest was heaving with sobs, and the hooves around his body were rubbing him in circular motions.

Unable to comprehend the situation, Alduin could only lay helpless in the creature's hold while his bewilderment grew.

They were descending now, and he could hear the creature mumbling as it held him close.

"You're finally here. You're finally here with me."

Despite the welcome revelation that he could understand her language, Alduin was too stunned to react. As absurd as it seemed, this creature, this _female_ creature, he reminded himself, was happy! And by nothing more than his mere presence!

He tried to understand what this all could mean. The tears, the smiles, the tender caresses and embrace. Did… did this creature care for him?

He could barely entertain the thought. He was accustomed to being respected, to being feared, to being worshipped. But physical affection? Hah! Not even the most depraved mortal would be so foolish as to try and give the World Eater a hug.

He tried to squirm out of the creature's hold. He had no desire to be coddled in such a manner. But her fur was soft and warm, her touch gentle, and to his utter horror he found that he was actually enjoying her embrace!

No, no! This was humiliating! It was degrading!

His struggles slowed, and he found himself nuzzling closer against her chest.

It was… utterly delightful.

A warm fog was settling over his mind as they landed, so that he barely noticed the other creatures milling around them. He paid little attention when several excited faces crowded over him and spoke amongst themselves.

Despite the fatigue, he was curious to know more about these creatures, and he strained to hear all he could.

"…are in order, princess. After so many years of waiting, you must be…"

"…idea how lucky we are? The first ponies to see the new…"

Their voices were overlapping; the following words too quick and jumbled for him to make out. Still, he heard enough. These creatures were called ponies, it seemed. And fortuitously for him, he was in the presence of their royalty! But who…

Of course, the one who was holding him! Why hadn't he realized it sooner? Or… had he? The haze was creeping back over his mind, and his thoughts were gradually turning to a singular desire to rest.

"…make a suggestion, your majesty? Any announce should be postponed until…"

"…excellent point."

"…is overseeing medical care and debris cleanup… want you to…"

He fought to stay awake. He had been sent here to serve these ponies, not to lounge about in their ruler's hooves! It was an insult to them and an embarrassment to himself!

He tried to free himself, but his body felt numb and refused to obey. He pushed as hard as he could manage, but with no success. He was gasping for breath; his muscles already pushed to their limits.

The voices had stopped, and now the princess was leaning over him, her muzzle softly rubbing against his cheek. His resistance ebbed away, and he once again relaxed into the warmth of her embrace.

He would explain everything later. He was safe and sound, and right now, he only wanted to rest.

"Oh, princess! Princess!" The purple-coated child was speaking, her voice tinged with excitement. It mattered little. He just… wanted… to…

"What are you going to name him?!"

WHAT?!

Alduin's eyes shot open, his fatigue instantly gone. The princess was looking down at him with a smile, her head tilted as though in thought.

The very question enraged him. Name him? They were going to NAME him like some common pet!? To spend his days addressed in such a dishonorable fashion? Never! He would serve them in whatever way was required, but he would not suffer himself to be branded with some meaningless title of their choosing.

With all of his strength, he finally wrenched his upper body free. Drawing his shoulders, he faced the ponies with the stoic confidence of an Aedric god, prepared to reveal his true name.

But all that came from his mouth was a thin and wordless cry. He tried again. And again. Soon he was switching between the tongues of men and dragons, struggling to speak just one word.

It was no use. Nothing passed his lips but a flood of yelps, squeaks and cries. It was like his tongue and throat had forgotten how to work!

For the first time since awakening, he looked down at himself. This time, his scream was not intended to be an intelligible thought.

The very first thing he noticed was how small he had become. He was tiny and underdeveloped. Infantile might be a better term to describe it. Thoughts turning frantic, he began to writhe and twist, struggling to see what other changes had been wrought to his body.

Deformed. That was the only he could describe himself now. His rich, ebony coloration was now a deep purple, and his scales had flattened down to a smooth hide. His neck had shortened, leaving his head uncomfortably close to his body, and his tail felt like nothing more than a stub. And what was wrong with his… his…

WHAT HAD HAPPENED TO HIS WINGS!?

He stared down at the arms, a cold sense of despair running down his spine. He was grounded. He could never fly again.

The pony was trying to draw him back, but the warmth of her embrace and the soft touch of her hooves now seemed more like a trap than a comfort. He kicked and swiped at her legs, but his new form was too weak to make a scratch.

"Shh, calm down, little one. Don't be afraid," she whispered into his ear. Her voice was soothing, hypnotic, and a traitorous part of his mind urged him to obey. "Everything's alright. Mommy's here."

Alduin let out a choking gasp. This pony was claiming him as her child! Shock turned to outrage, and he ignored the rest of her words as he railed inwardly.

'Father, what have you done to me!?'

**I HAVE GIVEN YOU A CHANCE AT REDEMPTION.**

Alduin froze at the words. He had not expected a response, had thought himself completely alone in this world. But it seemed Akatosh was present still.

He looked about. There had been no voice, nor sound. It was like a mental image of the runes being carved in slate.

'Then why turn me into THIS,' he demanded. 'I cannot speak. I can scarcely move! I am nothing!'

**YOU AGREED TO THIS.**

'I agreed to atone! To place myself in service of these creatures, to aid them in penance for my crimes!' His anger was growing, it was making his head pound. 'I did not consent to be changed into some mewling infant, meant to suckle at the teats of this, of this…"

A sharp bolt of pain arced through his skull, and his muscles went limp. He slumped forwards, but two white objects curled around him and kept him from falling.

He looked at the creature that held him. What was it? He felt like he should remember. Frowning, he tried to think past the warm, thick haze that seemed to blanket his thoughts. It was, she was, a p… a puh… princess? Yes, that sounded right.

But what was a princess? Why didn't he know?

His thoughts were getting blurry. He remembered being angry for some reason. He had… changed somehow.

Puzzled, he looked down at his infant's body, his tiny arms, his purple scales. What had he looked like before? Or had he always been like this?

There was a strange, almost fluid sensation in his head, like he had been cut and the blood was draining away. It didn't hurt, but there was a sense of loss, of absence. But why?

It was getting harder to think. He decided that it must not be important. Maybe he would rest for a time, and it would all make sense when he awoke…

**IT IS TIME, ALDUIN.**

Time? Time for what? He forced himself to concentrate, but he couldn't find the answer. He felt that he should know, but he just could not remember. Then it hit him.

He was losing his memories.

'No… no, no, no!' Now that he realized it, he could feel them going. Pieces of his life, the experience and the knowledge, dimmed and vanished like extinguished flames.

'Wait, don't do this' he implored. 'Haven't you done enough? Let me remain myself, if only in mind! Damn you, at least let me have that!'

**NO. IT IS TIME NOW, ALDUIN.**

'You cannot do this!' His memories were fading fast, and a new fear pushed to the front of his thoughts. What if his father had no intention of allowing him to return to Nirn? What if this had all been a deception? To imprison him in this weakened form, to purge away his very essence, and then abandon him to this world?

He cursed himself for his foolishness. He cursed Akatosh for his trickery.

**I WILL NOT ABANDON YOU.**

The words rose up through his mind, and he realized in despair that he could no longer remember his father's name.

**YOU WILL BE MADE WHOLE ONCE AGAIN.**

'WHEN?!'

**ONCE YOU HAVE EARNED BACK THAT RIGHT.**

'You've taken too much,' he protested. 'Why must I lose everything?!'

**IT IS NECESSARY.**

'No, please, father! Please…' Not once in his long and violent life had Alduin begged. He pleaded now, silently and desperately. But his mind slipped further, until he could no longer remember to whom he was crying out. 'Please, give me back myself."

With no other option, he turned his attention to the few memories he still possessed. He tried to focus on the sights, the sounds, the smells, anything that he might retain. But no matter what he tried, they swirled out of reach like leaves in a windstorm.

His mind was fading. He could barely form coherent thoughts.

In desperation, he clung to one last memory, the most important of all.

'Zu'u Alduin. Kinbok do Dov. Vahlok do Keizaal.'

He repeated it again and again, willing, commanding himself to remember.

'Zu'u Alduin. Kinbok do Dov. Vahlok do Keizaal.'

But the words grew dim, their meanings uncertain.

He forced himself to continue. He could not forget this. He would not forget this!

'Zu'u… My name is… my… name…"

No! He couldn't forget that! He tried desperately to remember, but it was no use.

He had forgotten his own name.

Despairing, he threw back his head and loosed all of his pain, all of his regret, all of his anger in a hoarse, wracking sob.

And then, nothing. He found himself shrouded by warmth. A soft, gentle feeling that promised safety, and comfort, and blissful oblivion.

He sank into the warmth, his previous life forgotten.

He was safe. He was loved.

And he was so very tired…

Alduin closed his eyes, and went to sleep.

* * *

><p>.<p>

The madgod nudged his left foot forward and angled his body slightly to the right. A subtle change, but one that added a tense aggressiveness to his stance. The Daedra noticed this hostile movement, and its lips pulled back in a smile.

"You seem anxious, my friend. But why, pray tell? You've nothing to fear from the likes of me. Unless of course, you have something to hide."

"Anxious? Don't be ridiculous! Embarrassed is closer to the truth! To have such a distinguished guest pop in with no time to prepare, why it's simply mortifying! If I'd known you were coming, I'd have made arrangements. The blood of the innocent for you to snack on, or perhaps a table of disembodied limbs? I mean, what do you get for the Daedra who has everything? Hmm, let me rephrase that. For the Daedra who hates everything!"

It sneered. "And here I assumed you might somehow be an improvement over your predecessor. Yet you hide behind the same mask of japes and foolishness as did he. Cowardly and disgusting behavior for one that would call himself a god."

It was only centuries of practice at maintaining that 'mask of foolishness' that kept Sheogorath from attacking the Daedra then and there. But he couldn't give in. That was exactly what it wanted. For him to lose control, to become vulnerable. So instead of putting his fist through its damnable face, he smiled all the wider.

"Well, I AM a god of madness, you know. So if I'm madder than he was, I would say that does make me an improvement. Better madman equals better madgod, wouldn't you think? Although, knowing how mad I am wouldn't make me very mad at all, now would it? If I'm sane enough to know how mad I am, than I can't very well…"

"Enough," hissed the Daedra as it took a single, harsh step forward. Sheogorath did not flinch, but his fingers curled as if gripping an invisible weapon.

"You seek to distract me, to fool me into accepting this façade you've woven around yourself. But I know what you were, what you STILL are." It smiled at him, but its eyes were as lifeless and hollow as an empty skull.

"We all know."

It was only through sheer will that Sheogorath kept his expression neutral. Some measure of shock must have slipped through, because the Daedra's smile widened, and it stepped closer.

"Just as I know that your very essence departed Mundus a short time ago. It went not to Nirn, nor to another sphere of Oblivion. No, it vanished entirely."

So, that's what this was about, Sheogorath realized. "You've been spying on me."

The Daedra smiled and waited.

"And if you know that I left," Sheogorath said, his voice growing firmer. "Then you know that I was summoned."

"That's why you're here," he finally concluded. "It's because I was called by Akatosh, is it not?"

The Daedra's lip curled slightly at the name. "Indeed. Our most hated enemy, to whom your mortal counterpart was once so loyal, spirits you away to a place where my eyes cannot follow. Surely, you can understand my concern."

Sheogorath faked a laugh, knowing full-well how dire of a situation he was in. This was obviously not a social call; the Daedra seemed to think he had slighted it in some way. He needed to find out how.

"It sounds to me as though I've already been judged," he said. "So why don't you save us both some time and tell me just what I'm being accused of?"

The Daedra's smile twisted. "Then you admit to consorting with the Aedra? To betraying your fellow lords?"

Sheogorath snapped. With two long strides he closed the distance and gave it a vicious shove to the chest. The Daedra stumbled back and fell to the floor. It looked up at him in fury, but he was already speaking before it could retaliate.

"I betrayed nothing! In case you've forgotten, you paranoid fool, I was summoned!" Sheogorath's hands were clenched into fists, his face red with anger. "I never had a choice in the matter! So why don't you stop wasting my time? You think I've been up to something, well spit it out!"

"So you do have some spine." The Daedra stood and crossed its arms. "Very well, I shall speak plainly. Centuries ago, I charged my mortal servants with a task, one that would greatly extend my influence within Tamriel. But my plans were delayed, foiled by traitors in the ranks. Now, my agents are all but ready."

It leaned in towards him, close enough that Sheogorath could smell the carrion stink wafting from its mouth.

"So I find it quite… troubling that one of my kinsmen has been summoned away. Could it be that the Nine Divines have caught wind of my plan? Did they seek to interrogate you to learn of my designs? Or have they known all along, and only now given orders to you, their faithful dog, to take up arms to impede me?"

Sheogorath resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Talk about being needlessly obscure! All the same, he knew that the situation was on the edge of a knife. One wrong word might set the Daedra off. Steadying his breathing and heart rate, he focused on making his voice as calm and level as possible.

"Whatever schemes you might have, I assure you they have not been discovered. Akatosh summoned me to aid him in a personal matter, and I was dismissed shortly after fulfilling my task."

It scowled, obviously annoyed at being on the receiving end of a vague response. "Then what was this task? Explain why he summoned you," it demanded.

"Oh for the love of… he needed help containing Alduin! The dragon was running amok, and he couldn't stop him alone," Sheogorath growled, hoping that the truth would finally placate the Daedra.

"Lies," the Daedra said. "Alduin is dead! His bones lay piled in Sovngarde, and his soul rots within that pitiful 'Dragonborn!'"

Sheogorath feigned a yawn. "Now, see, I might be inclined to believe you if I hadn't faced him down myself. Was almost swallowed whole as a matter of fact. Also drooled on, but I'd rather not talk about that. So while it gives me immeasurable pleasure to tell you that you're wrong, I'm afraid Alduin is alive and well. I swear to you, that's the truth."

He could tell the Daedra wasn't buying it. If he didn't figure something out fast, this was going to end in bloodshed. He thought furiously, trying to come up with some way of satisfying it. If he could only give it some kind of proof…

Wait, proof! That was it! Lifting his hand, he summoned the Wabbajack. The Daedra leapt back, claws extending as it dropped into a ready crouch.

Not good! He'd acted too hastily and given the appearance of initiating combat. Sheogorath lifted his hands and beseeched the Daedra to wait.

"Whoa, whoa! Calm down a second! I know what this looks like, but I don't want to start anything." The Daedra curled its lip, still ready to pounce.

Sheogorath persisted. "I'm serious! You wanted the truth, right? Well, that's why I summoned this. I used it to subdue Alduin. Check it yourself, you'll see I'm not lying!"

Warily, the Daedra straightened up. Extending an arm, its fingers curled open and waited. Sheogorath tossed it the staff.

The Daedra cupped its palm over the staff's tip, giving off a black, fetid glow. Its eyes closed as it latched onto the staff's energy, searching for the last creature it had struck.

Sheogorath watched, idly entertaining the thought of attacking while its guard was down. Before he could act on the temptation, the Daedra pulled the staff away with a gasp of exertion. The magical glow diffused, and it panted for breath.

"So it is true… Alduin lives. I never imagined that this chance would come."

"You saw it then," Sheogorath asked. "Saw why I was there, what I was doing, who I was doing it to?"

"Yes," the Daedra said. "Forgive me, I was wrong to doubt you." Still looking down, it tossed the staff back. Sheogorath caught and dispelled the artifact, silently hoping that maybe now it would be satisfied and get the hell out of his realm.

Somehow, he doubted he'd be so lucky.

"I wonder, madgod, if you might reveal the path to this new world." It turned to face him, and he could see a hungry gleam in its eyes. "I would quite like to see this new form of Alduin's for myself. Pay him my regards."

Pay him regards? Not likely. Whatever this Daedra wanted with Alduin, Sheogorath knew it couldn't be anything good. Just letting it into that world would be a nightmare in itself. It looked like a good time to start playing the fool.

Sheogorath tapped his chin and tried to at least pretend he was giving the matter some thought.

"Well, see, that's the problem. I'd love to tell you, but I'm afraid I don't know myself!" He gave the Daedra a wide, idiotic smile.

"I was summoned, remember? One minute I'm sitting here watching seashells dance, the next I'm poofed off to some faraway land being asked to downsize a dragon. So I've no idea where it is! It could be half a mile east of Apocrypha! Maybe two doors down from Evergloam? You might even have to dig through a river of sludge in the Scuttling Void to find it."

It shook its head, chuckling. "Sheogorath, what do you take me for? In centuries past, when you first took the mantle of Daedra, I might have believed such a lie. But you have occupied this throne long enough to know the music of the spheres."

It gestured to the room around them. "Your realm chimes with the duality of your own nature. The high tones of mania, the deep chords of dementia. You have heard their song for two hundred years. Even one as simple as you could not remain ignorant of their presence."

Sheogorath tensed. His bluff had been called. There was no point in lying further.

"So it is with all realms. Boethiah's rings like the clashing of blades. Mephala's hums with rumors and untold secrets. This world too, must possess a resonance all its own. I know you must have heard it, no matter how brief your visit was."

Well, he was stuck. His options were down to acceptance or denial.

Its eyes drilled into him like a hunter approaching its quarry. "And I know you can hear it even now, calling out from the black. You could find it with ease, if you so wished. So I ask once again, will you teach me its melody?"

Sheogorath considered this. Obviously the Daedra had encountered Alduin in the past, and was obsessed with tracking him down once again. Providing his location would likely place Alduin and his new home in tremendous danger. On the other hand, refusing would likely push the already unstable Daedra completely over the edge, thus placing his entire realm in danger of utter annihilation.

So it was between selling out a baby dragon, or jumping headlong into a brawl to the death? Sheogorath didn't have to think twice.

"No."

The Daedra's smile vanished, and it bared its fangs. "Perhaps I did not make my request clear?"

"Oh, you made yourself perfectly clear," Sheogorath interrupted. "I'm just refusing. What's more, I'm telling you to shut up."

"I warn you, I am in no mood for your japes," it said, face twisting with rage.

"No, I warn you," Sheogorath spat back. "I'm perfectly serious. Maybe it's nostalgia for my heroic deeds of old. Maybe it's some unquenchable loyalty to Akatosh. Maybe it's just the fact that I like being an unhelpful bastard. But regardless of motive, you're still not getting my help."

"And why not!? What has the Aedra done that deserves such loyalty?"

Sheogorath was furious. "And just what have YOU done that deserves a damned thing? Let's get something straight. I don't owe you my cooperation. I don't owe you my friendship. Hell, I don't even owe you my basest hospitality! As a matter of fact, back when I was toadying around for all of you in my mortal days, you were the one I hated the most!"

Sheogorath could tell that he'd burned his last bridge. The Daedra was nearly frothing at the mouth, its voice laced with barely controlled rage.

"I swear to you, madgod, that I will have Alduin's whereabouts. Unless you recant, I will take what you know by force."

Sheogorath shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. "Oh, you're welcome to try. Just don't take offense if I dice you to bits and then piss on your ashes."

It was trembling now, its face twisted in hate. Mentally preparing himself for what was sure to come, Sheogorath leaned in and whispered.

"Well? Come for me then. We both know that you want to."

Its look of anger vanished. The Daedra smiled at him, showing all its teeth.

"So be it."

A pair of taloned fists struck with the force of battering rams. Sheogorath was flung back across the room, through the crumbling throne, through the splintering tree, and finally smashing through the wall of the palace.

The Daedra followed like a shadow of death.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Draconic Translations:

**Strun Bah Qo**-

Storm, Wrath, Lightning (Draconic shout for creating a thunderstorm)

**Lok Vah Koor**-

Sky, Spring, Summer (Draconic shout for clearing the skies)

**Zu'u Alduin. Kinbok do Dov. Vahlok do Keizaal**-

I am Alduin. Leader of Dragonkind. Guardian of Skyrim.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Three months.

Three. Fucking. Months.

I can't believe I let it go for this long. I'm pissed at myself for leaving that big of a gap. At any rate, all I can do is apologize for the horrendous delay in getting this thing posted, and try to do better next time.

To anyone who's been waiting for this chapter, sorry for the wait, and I hope it's satisfactory.


	8. Aristeia

Alright, here's number eight. Hope everyone enjoys.

Small warning- This chapter's a violent one. I don't believe it's severe enough to warrant a rating increase, but this one's gonna be messy.

Chapter 8- Aristeia

.

_One fine day_

_In the middle of the night_

_Two dead boys_

_Got up to fight_

_-Anonymous_

* * *

><p>.<p>

Sheogorath crashed through the wall of his palace and sailed into the courtyard. Striking the ground, he skidded and bounced over the stones in a lifeless heap. His ribcage had been crushed by the force of the twin punches, his spine broken by the collision with his throne and castle wall. Blood poured from a dozen cuts, punctures or gouges in his back, the marks of flying shards of stone and wood.

It was of no consequence. So long as the strike was not outwardly fatal, he could regenerate. He could already feel the wellspring of his world reaching out to his battered form. His body went rigid, power coursing through it. It was fire in the muscles, lightning in the blood. It was pure, unbridled energy that would have filled and ripped a lesser being apart at the seams.

The madgod's ribs snapped back into place, his spine re-fused and every wound vanished with a steaming hiss. He struck the ground a final time and rolled to a stop. Acting on instinct, Sheogorath braced his arms against the ground and pushed, propelling himself away from the strike that would have severed his head.

Talons carved into the stone below where he previously lay, throwing sparks into the air. The Daedra gave no pause, rushing towards him and jabbing and lunging with blows strong enough to punch his heart straight out of his chest. Sheogorath ducked and weaved, looking for any weaknesses to exploit.

From the city below, he could hear voices raised in alarm. Must have heard the noise when he was knocked clear out of the castle.

He met the Daedra's gaze as other noises rose over the confusion. Shouted commands, the rattle of weapons, the clatter of armoured feet. His enemy's face set into a grim look, an urgent one.

It feinted left, and he dodged the following thrust, leapt over a sweeping kick at his leg, and finally jumped back, temporarily out of range of its claws. It was now that Sheogorath understood its haste, realized the depth of his options.

The arrival of his guards would pose no threat to the Daedra, but they would impede it. If it couldn't reach him, it couldn't obtain the knowledge it sought.

In that sense, there was little need to stand and fight. Time was on his side. He could flee with ease. The Daedra would follow, indeed, it would have no other choice. The wisest move would be to lead it straight into the blades of his troops before crushing it underfoot.

To hell with that. Sheogorath had no intentions of retreat, fleeing like some hunted fox with the Daedra snapping at his heels. Let his guards come to him, and he would gladly accept their aid… if there was enough of this bastard left for them to fight.

Setting his feet, Sheogorath stood fast against the onrushing Daedra.

The unstoppable force bearing down upon the immovable object.

The Daedra feinted with its right arm, bringing the left in an upward swing aiming to flay his chest open. Sheogorath blocked the feint with his forearm, his bones aching in protest as it struck. Planting his feet, he lashed out and checked the other blow, grasping hold of the Daedra's wrist before its talons met his flesh. The force of that hit would have sent him flying, only the downward pressure of the other arm kept him in place.

Its right hand clamped down over his forearm, and then it began to lift. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he was raised bodily into the air, his torso exposed to his enemy's fangs. Its mouth opened in a shark's grin, teeth glistening and ready to lunge.

Sheogorath returned the smile, then swung his lower body back and down to plant both feet against the Daedra's chest. Tearing himself from its grip, he kicked out with all the strength in his body.

He was launched backwards, and he could see the Daedra staggering, almost falling. But then its balance returned, and now it was leaping after him, arms opened wide as if for an embrace.

Perfect.

Sheogorath landed on his shoulder, rolled once, and flipped back onto his feet. Two orbs of light, one red, one violet formed in either hand. Snapping his arm behind him, he splayed his palm at the ground and flexed.

An orb of fire shot from his hand. It hit the ground and erupted in a burst of heat and flame. The blast flung him into the air, sending his burned and tattered body on a collision course with the still approaching Daedra. Its eyes widened in realization and it tried to bring in its claws to impale him. It moved far too slow. The two Daedric Princes slammed together explosively, sending them crashing to the ground with Sheogorath laying atop his dazed opponent.

A brief pause to catch his breath, and the madgod lifted his other hand, now cupping a sphere of lightning. Without hesitation, he drove it full-force into the Daedra's gut.

The attack blew a gaping hole in its abdomen. Blood flashed into steam, organs charred, and the Daedra's head snapped back as it shrieked. The sound was like some monstrous tea kettle, a shrill and deafening hiss that set Sheogorath's teeth on edge and echoed between the palace walls.

He lifted his hand and invoked another shock spell, intending to drive this one in and through the monster's skull. But a backhanded swing caught him in the temple, and he was sent tumbling away, his ears ringing from the blow.

They struggled to their feet, wounds already healing. The Daedra edged closer. It was cautious now, more respectful of the danger he posed. Sheogorath sidestepped to the left, his eyes darting from his opponent to their surroundings, looking for any obstacle that might impede and potentially trap him.

He used the brief lull to weigh the situation. The Daedra was stronger than him, of that he was certain. Its claws also gave it considerable reach, and would do a great deal more harm blow for blow.

It circled closer, its talons clicking against one another as it clenched its hands.

But this was his realm, and he still held the advantage. With his source of power so close, he could move faster, heal quicker, and outlast it by centuries. All he had to do was stay on the attack.

The Daedra seemed to have the same idea. It crouched low to the ground before dashing forwards, one arm raking across in a slash while the other drew back to stab. Sheogorath rolled under the slash, felt the talons whistling over his neck, and then he was on his feet, fist balled and arm cocked back. Stepping forwards, he swung; two hard and fast strikes to its jaw before smashing his fist directly into its face.

But he was in its reach, and its counterattack came swift. A backhanded strike that shredded his coat, a clawed uppercut that he barely evaded, and finally a quick snap of its wrist that caught him in the arm. Blood misted the air as he was sliced to the bone.

Sheogorath staggered back, and the claws flashed again. He knocked away a cutting strike at his ribs only to see its left claws going for his eyes. He ducked, but one talon dug across the top of his head, and he felt the skin peeling away from his scalp as blood poured down his face.

He batted away another slice and leapt backwards. He paused long enough to wipe blood away from his eyes before gathering magicka in his hand. A blue glow formed in his palm, and then he charged at the Daedra, arm back and ready.

The Daedra's arms stretched, talons gleaming readily.

Sheogorath was insane. He was not stupid. Rather than rush into that embrace, he threw himself to the side and fired his spell at the ground. Before the Daedra could jump away, a stream of frost shot from his fingers and washed over its legs. The magical ice spread, winding from its feet to the stone and rooting it to the spot. Its arm snapped out to catch him, only to meet air less than inches from his face. Snarling in frustration, it struggled to wrench itself free, claws straining to reach him.

Seeing his chance, the madgod went on the attack. Lunging in, he looped one of his arms around the Daedra's own, pinning it against his side. With his free hand, he began raining blows on its chest, drawing back his shoulder and throwing his entire body into the hit like a carpenter hammering in the world's most homicidal nail.

*THUD*

*THUD*

*THUD*

The Daedra thrashed, its legs still fighting to break free of the ice, its arm writhing as it tried to escape his hold. Its free hand clawed and swung, but every strike was blocked or dodged. Sheogorath continued his assault.

*THUD*

*THUD*

*SNAP*

He grinned, feeling its sternum crack under a punch. Just a few more hits… he was going to cave in this thing's chest and rip out its heart before sending the remains headlong into the Waters of Oblivion.

And he was going to enjoy every moment of it.

Claws darted out in a stab, and Sheogorath pulled back before they met his neck. Except that hadn't been the Daedra's target. Instead, the claws continued on to plunge into his shoulder. Sheogorath yelled out in pain, jerking away and pulling the claws loose.

And inadvertently freeing the Daedra's arm.

With his opponent no longer restrained, Sheogorath leapt back and away from its claws, only to watch as it gave a powerful tug that finally tore its legs free from the ice.

Then it was charging at him, shards of ice still crumbling from its legs, and caught one of his hands with its own. It yanked him back, its free hand ready, talons splayed. They flashed down in a scything arc, carving across Sheogorath's face. Streams of blood filled the air as his nose was nearly severed, his cheek split wide open and his lips cut to strips. It was only by luck that his eyes had been spared.

The Daedra slashed again, forcing Sheogorath to lean back and under its claws. But it still kept hold of his wrist, and so he was pulled back into range of those talons, forced to lean and duck while it swung relentlessly.

He had an idea, one that was just crazy enough to work. Or get him messily disemboweled. Regardless, it was his best option. Continuing to avoid the claws, Sheogorath moved his free hand behind his back, hurriedly creating another frost spell. Confident that the Daedra had not seen it, he pulled back as forcefully as he could, his arm stretched and taut in its grip.

Just as he expected, the Daedra gave a vicious yank, drawing him back towards it like a fish on a hook. Jaws opened to bite, and Sheogorath thrust his hand into its slavering maw. Before the teeth could tear off his wrist, he fired the spell, sending a thousand flechettes of ice through the base of its mouth.

The Daedra's lower jaw was blown away, the jawbone torn apart in the spray of ice. The sheer force of the spell threw the Daedra back like an uncoiling spring. His hand still in its grip, Sheogorath was pulled along for the ride, dragged through the spray of blood, teeth and saliva that spattered over his chest and shoulders.

Knowing that this chance would not last, Sheogorath renewed his assault. His arm darted out, but the Daedra's head angled to the left in avoidance. Aiming lower, he struck twice into its side, and he could hear the air being pushed out of its lungs. It staggered for a moment, grip finally loosening, and he swept his freed arm backhanded as though swinging a battle-axe. His fist slammed into the side of its head, and the noise of that hit rebounded through the empty courtyard.

The Daedra toppled over, fell onto its side. Its eyes were shut, moans of pain bubbling through its ruined jaw. This time, it made no attempt to rise.

A burst of euphoria ran through him. It was down! Now was his chance. He ran forwards, and in his haste, relaxed his guard.

A taloned foot swept up and around to kick him off his feet, and Sheogorath screamed half in rage and half in pain as the tendons in his ankle were severed.

He fell hard, and another foot lanced in and caught his chest. He could hear the ribs crack, and then the Daedra was throwing itself sideways, claws lunging for him in murderous glee. Sheogorath tried to roll away, blocked as many blows as he could, but still felt claws stab home into his chest, his arms, his belly. Half-blinded by pain, Sheogorath managed to catch its newly healed jaw in his hand before teeth could latch onto his neck. He struggled to push the snapping maw away before landing a punch into its throat. The Daedra collapsed back, choking and gasping for breath.

Sheogorath staggered to his feet, his breathing strained and painful. His injuries burned as they knitted shut. Before him, the Daedra stood. His blood coated its claws, and he could see the marks of crumpled bones and internal bleeding made by his fists. Its feral grin stretched wider.

Sheogorath smiled back, but not from arrogance or bloodthirsty glee. No, it was because of one simple realization.

The footfalls and clamoring of his approaching guards had ended several moments ago.

The Daedra took one readying step, and when it leaped the air was filled with a series of loud twangs as a hailstorm of arrows was released.

* * *

><p>.<p>

She was at a loss for words. It was almost absurd. Here was the moment she had anticipated for years, had imagined in so many wonderful ways. Why then did it seem so unbelievable? So impossible?

Because deep down, she had never truly believed it would happen. For all her outward serenity, Celestia had long considered herself a cursed mare. She had lost innumerable subjects, friends, to the slow ravages of time. She had lost her sister to madness and her own actions. Why then should this be any different, when fate seemed to delight in tearing away everything she loved.

That surety of failure, of disappointment had almost stayed her hoof, almost forced her to pass the egg on. But it was the thought of that un-hatched infant, so helpless, so vulnerable, that kindled the desires in her heart. That gave her hope for the first time in centuries.

It was as if the egg contained all of her greatest dreams: To have a child of her own, to regain her sister's love, to escape from the downward spiral of immortal solitude and truly _live_ again.

And now the first of those dreams had come true. Celestia was finally, truly a mother.

And she scarcely knew what to think.

The closest comparison was when she recalled her first time successfully raising the sun. The monumental buildup and release of tension, the indescribable glee that came from accomplishing such a herculean task, the literal rush of endorphins that had left her full of energy and excitement to spare.

This was a far greater feeling.

It was unending euphoria and relief so powerful it left her halfway dazed. It was the fulfillment of dreams, the refutation of nightmares, and the first beautiful moments of what she hoped would be a long and magical lifetime. Raise the sun? Hah. She felt like she could recreate it from scratch and still have the energy to build the moon alongside it!

She was suddenly brought out of her daze by the feeling of the baby dragon squirming against her. Alarmed, Celestia pulled back just enough to look down at the newborn. He had set both claws against her foreleg, and was attempting to push himself up and out of her hold. His face was scrunched up in displeasure… but there was something else. There was a sense of intelligence about him, as if he understood the situation and disapproved. But that made no sense. At his age, he couldn't full notice what was going on, let alone be capable of comprehending it!

Still, something was upsetting him, and Celestia wracked her brain trying to think of the cause. When no solution came to mind, she remembered with some embarrassment that she had focused all of her study and attention solely on the hatching process. Anything pertaining to the care or needs of a _hatched_ dragon had been passed over or forgotten.

'Well, that's what you get for being so singled-minded,' she chided herself. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, she was definitely going to be hitting the books. She hadn't come all this way to screw things up by being ignorant or negligent!

Now then, back to the matter at hoof. Taking a firm hold on the dragon, she held him up and began carefully inspecting his body. She was relieved to see no sign of injuries on his body, and he showed no discomfort or other reflexive action from her touch.

Alright, so that ruled out pain or any physical irritation. But what else? Was he hungry? She couldn't honestly say how soon baby dragons needed to eat after being hatched. But that explanation didn't seem quite right. He was acting far too subdued, since from her observations most babies tended to be extremely… vocal, when it came to voicing their needs.

An unpleasant possibility reared up in her mind, and she once again drew him back against her chest, completely missing the look of sheer embarrassment that swept over the dragon's face.

Just as she feared, he once again began struggling against her. What was wrong? Was he afraid of her? Was it because she wasn't a dragon? Could he tell she was not his biological mother? Desperately, she began rubbing a hoof in soft, slow circles across his back, trying to put all the love and protectiveness she had into her embrace.

To her relief, it seemed to work. She felt his body slacken as he nuzzled his face deeper into her coat. Letting out a glad but weary sigh, she spread her wings and glided back to the ground.

Her hooves had barely reached the floor when the other ponies surrounded her, each of them anxious to get their first look at the newest member of the royal family.

Celestia immediately shied back, reflexively moving the infant to her side and bringing a wing up to cover him. She didn't know why, but all of her previous fears were resurfacing. That small part of her mind was terrified that she would lose him. To what? No idea. But after all the waiting and worrying, now was the perfect time for the universal bitch known as Irony to swoop down and steal him away. The sight of so many ponies pushing to get to him was enough of a threat in her eyes.

The ponies backed away, mindful of their ruler's sudden anxiety. She took in their concerned faces, recognized them as friends and loyal subjects. Was she truly worrying about them harming her baby? Ridiculous! She had seen this situation hundreds of times! It was only natural for ponies to want to meet and fawn over a newborn foal. And besides, she had already displayed him to half the city before he was hatched. Why should this be any different?

It was completely different, that tiny part of her wailed. He was safe inside his egg! It was solid as a rock, and had that barrier coating it! Now he was vulnerable, they could-

Pushing those thoughts aside, she lifted her wing and moved the dragon back into view. The ponies edged closer, and she felt the same voice of unease calling out in panic.

'No,' she thought. 'Didn't you just decide that you were finished with these childish worries? You are not hiding him away like some jealous nag. This is normal. This is what any parent would do. You can do this.'

Tucking her legs beneath her, Celestia lowered herself to eye-level with the others. Struggling to keep her voice level, she asked with a fragile smile, "Would you like to meet my son?"

Maybe it was the elation that came from speaking that word aloud for the first time. Maybe it was the excitement that spread over their faces as they crowded in for a look. Whatever the cause, Celestia felt her nervousness abating. Supporting him with a second hoof, she held the dragon out so he could be more easily seen.

"A fine, healthy looking colt," one of the professors said. "And such wonderful coloration on his coat! It definitely…"

"You mean scales," one of the other unicorns corrected him. "I don't think you can really call him a colt, either. Drake, I believe, is the proper term."

"You know what I meant!"

"Perhaps, but I hardly think it appropriate to address the young prince," at this the unicorn turned her attention to Celestia, as if inquiring whether the title was appropriate. At the alicorn's nod, she continued. "Yes, quite inappropriate to address him in such improper terms."

The other unicorn sputtered. "I did NOT mean it disrespectfully! Surely you understand, your highness? I merely wanted to call attention to your son's excellent features!"

Celestia bit her lip. "Umm, thank… you?" She wondered if that was the correct way to respond. After all, the compliments hadn't been directed at her, but the baby certainly wasn't able to acknowledge them. So did that make it alright? Should she say anything else?

Being a parent was turning out to be vastly more complicated than she'd thought!

Luckily she was saved when Twilight's father interrupted. "So what was that you were saying about his color?"

The professor brightened up, presumably at seeing the chance to recover from his previous mistake. "Why, that it suits him perfectly! Purple, the color of royalty as a constant reminder of his station! And the mixture of red and blue? Warmth and courage alongside peace and comfort? What better traits for a ruler, not to mention a dragon? Just look at his scales! Regal, striking! Not to mention…"

"It also matches his mother's eyes," Twilight's mother added slyly. "I wonder how else he'll take after you, your majesty?"

Celestia felt her cheeks heat up, wondering why the observation affected her that much. It was only an indirect connection… and, and it wasn't like she was responsible for his color. It didn't mean a thing!

And yet, she couldn't help but feel a rush of maternal pride as she looked over his vibrant scales. It was true, whatever the reason, and that seemed to make it that much more real for her. Casting a grateful smile at the other mare, she quickly pulled the dragon back against her chest, one hoof gently rubbing his spines.

Sensing that the impromptu show and tell was over, Sweet Grass pointedly cleared his throat to signal the other ponies to silence. "On behalf of everypony here, thank you for doing us the honor of meeting your child. I think I speak for all of us in attendance, and though presumptuous, for the entire kingdom when I say that congratulations are in order, princess. After so many years of waiting, you must be pleased to see the fruits of your labors."

She couldn't help but laugh. She still barely knew what to think! The myriad of emotions she had gone through in the past hour were making her dizzy and half-sick to her stomach. "Pleased isn't quite the word I would use," she said. "Overwhelmed is closer to the truth."

"But still, to have it finally happen after such a long time," Twilight's mother exclaimed. "And to think! We were here when it happened!"

She turned to her husband and daughter, nearly hopping in glee. "Do you have any idea how lucky we are? The first ponies to see the new prince?! Oh, I cannot wait to tell dad about this!"

Sweet Grass' jaw dropped. "Absolutely not!"

He seemed to realize just how forceful his outburst must have sounded when she turned to him with a rather incensed look. He hastened to elaborate. "I… I apologize, madam. But I must insist you not breathe a word of this to anypony else. The last things their highnesses need are rumors spreading through the streets."

An icy wind seemed to blow through the room, making several ponies wonder if the unicorn mare was magically lowering the temperature. "Excuse me?" Her voice came out in a hiss, her glare almost predatory. "Are you saying that I'm some type of gossipmonger?"

The earth pony's usual calm demeanor began to crumble as he saw just how far he had stuck his hoof in his mouth. "That wasn't what I meant at all," he stammered.

"Are you sure? Because it sounded like you accused me of being some loose-lipped blabbermouth! That I was going to march right out of this building and begin spouting lies around the city! Wasn't THAT what you meant?!"

Backing away from the demon in mare's clothing, Sweet Grass felt that there was something very familiar about this verbal whiplashing… and the sudden paling of his face showed that he remembered whose daughter he had insulted. And how it looked as though she'd inherited her father's temper.

Yep. He was dead.

"Princess," he nearly whimpered. "Help?"

Celestia gave him a mischievous smile. "Oh, I'm certain this was all just a misunderstanding," she stated. "That is, if Sweet Grass can explain what he truly meant."

It might have been sadistic, but she almost laughed at the betrayed look her councilor wore. In truth, she felt this was a rather just punishment for the momentary grief he had given her when they thought the egg was destroyed.

"Well, what I meant to say," he said with all the care of a stallion walking through a booby-trapped cornfield. "Was that it would be better to spread the news of his birth via a public announcement, rather than simple word of mouth. Not to mention the timing would be quite inopportune, what with the recent disaster, and all."

Many of the ponies reacted with confusion, giving Sweet Grass the opportunity to point out the rather large hole in the wall and the ring of damaged buildings below them. All in all, it was quite an effective diversionary tactic.

Twilight's mother huffed. "All right, I suppose I did overreact back there. Please accept my apologies, councilor?"

He gave a thankful nod, only to throw her a rather sour look when she continued. "I guess all of dad's complaints about you made me jump to conclusions."

Rather than demanding to know just what Cascade had been saying about him, Sweet Grass turned back to Celestia.

"Now then, since that little 'misunderstanding' has been cleared up. Might I make a suggestion your majesty?" At this point, I would suggest that the prince's existence be kept a secret, and any announcement should be postponed until we have fully dealt with both the damage and the aftermath of the day's events. That would ensure that such happy news is not overshadowed by such unfortunate happenings. It would also help keep any malicious… connotations from forming."

"That is an excellent point," Celestia said. Now that she thought about it, there could be horrific consequences if word were to get out that he had been born in the midst of a magical meltdown. Goodness knows there were some fanatically superstitious ponies in Equestria. The last thing she wanted was for her son to be viewed as some harbinger of destruction.

Unbeknownst to her, Twilight was bouncing up and down in excitement, waving her hoof to try and get the alicorn's attention.

"Then we agree," Sweet Grass said. "Get things back to normal, and then start spreading the announcement. Just tell me what you need done, your majesty! Between the two of us, I think I've had quite enough of being an exam proctor."

Celestia smiled apologetically. "I do apologize if you found that task unpleasant. Let me see if I can think of anything more fitting." She tapped a hoof to her cheek in thought, oblivious to the unicorn filly still hopping at her hooves. "Ah, I know! Right now, Stillwater is overseeing medical care and debris cleanup, but unfortunately he won't have the time to soothe any frazzled nerves. I want you to assist me in reassuring the populace. Let them know that the storm has passed, we have the situation under control…"

Stepping away from the other ponies, she began leading Sweet Grass towards the door, only to be stopped by the unexpected, and very loud yell of a certain unicorn.

"Oh, princess! Princess! Wait!" All eyes turned to Twilight Sparkle, who was now sporting a wide grin as though she was on the verge of revealing some remarkable secret.

"You can't leave yet," she began in a confident voice. "You forgot something REALLY important!"

Finding the girl's mood infectious, Celestia smirked back and asked, "Oh? And just what is that, my faithful student?"

Twilight seemed to puff up at the title, and she quickly raised a hoof and thrust it towards the infant drowsing in Celestia's foreleg. "What are you going to name him?!"

And just like that, Celestia was bewildered once again. How could she have forgotten something as important as that? What was she going to call him? Much as she loved the sound of it, addressing him as 'my baby' for the rest of his life was not a sound plan.

Apparently, the dragon agreed, springing awake immediately after Twilight voiced her question. As he looked around with wide eyes, she was again struck by how aware he appeared. What almost looked like indignation passed over his face, and then he was wriggling his way out of her hold, popping his arms free and turning to face the others.

Much to everypony's amusement, the dragon looked directly at Twilight and let out an unexpectedly loud squawk.

The assembled ponies laughed as the dragon started, apparently surprised by the force of his own voice. "It looks as though you're not the only one who wants to know," she said with a giggle.

But what name to choose? In the previous years, she had compiled a very extensive list of possibilities, but had never settled on any in particular. Well… there were two lists, but she didn't think the female section was exactly relevant anymore.

Celestia tried to remember and narrow down some of the names she'd considered, but it was proving to be a difficult task. She'd created the list in leaps and bounds over the years, sometimes adding several possibilities before discarding them the following day.

Finally, she settled on one of her favorites. It was a traditional name, regal and commanding, with quite a bit of history in her own family.

Smiling, Celestia said, "Solaris. I think I'll call him Solaris."

Whatever reaction she'd been expecting, she didn't get it.

Twilight made a face like she'd just bitten into something sour, and the infant let out another series of disgruntled cries. The adults responded more positively, smiling and quietly repeating the name to themselves… though she could tell their enthusiasm was rather forced.

"You disapprove?" she asked, beginning to feel apprehensive of her choice.

"Oh no, not at all milady," one of the professors exclaimed. "It's, well, very unique! And quite elegant!" He turned to the other ponies as if seeking agreement. The others nodded, their smiles a little too wide to be believed.

All in all, their evasiveness did little to ease Celestia's self-consciousness. Was her choice really that bad? She might have been inexperienced in these matters, but she had always assumed that naming a child after another relative was a common practice, an honor.

Seeming to pick up on her confusion, the stallion continued. "It just… well… doesn't seem to fit in this case. You see… it… oh, how can I put this?"

"Well?" Celestia prodded, mentally urging him to just spit it out.

"It's stuffy," Twilight said bluntly.

Any relief she might have felt at receiving a straight answer was smothered beneath a wave of bewilderment and indignation. 'Stuffy?' STUFFY? They thought that naming him after her father was a bad idea because the name was stuffy?!

Feeling thoroughly insulted, Celestia was tempted to simply dismiss Twilight's words and the opinions of everypony else in the room. Stuffy, indeed! As if they were in any position to judge! These ignorant peasants wouldn't know a good name if she wrote it down, rolled up the scroll and clocked them over the head with it!

Luckily, she was able to hold her tongue long enough to realize that she was overreacting. So they didn't like the name; they were certainly entitled to their opinions. Besides, if the entire group was in agreement, maybe there was some truth to Twilight's words. Maybe… maybe it really was 'stuffy.'

And she had read that a child's name was of great importance. A poorly chosen name could have severe consequences down the road. If nothing else, she at least owed it to her son to allow Twilight to explain her reasoning.

Inwardly counting down from ten, Celestia opened her eyes to a rather amusing sight.

After Twilight's outburst, her mother had noticed the scandalized look on the alicorn's face and hurried to clap a hoof over the filly's mouth. While her daughter let out a string of muffled protests, she was quickly bowing her head and stammering out one apology after the other.

"There is no need for apologies," she said. "In fact, I'm quite pleased with your honesty, Twilight Sparkle."

Twilight ducked out of her mother's grip and shot the older unicorn a victorious look.

"But," Celestia continued, smiling as the filly's expression turned from triumph to trepidation. "That by itself is not enough. As my student, I have very high expectations of you, one of which is that you have proof to back up your claims. So if you hope to convince me that Solaris is too… stuffy… of a name, you will have to explain why."

"Well, I think what everypony else said is true," she began. "I mean, it is unique, and fancy, but don't you think that's a bad thing this time? It's the kind of name you'd read on a big statue, or a painting in a museum, not something you'd call a baby."

Her father stepped up. "Princess, I think what my daughter is saying is that it's a fine name, but that it does not suit our young prince. In a way it sounds cold, unwelcoming, even aloof."

Celestia was taken aback. Did the name really create so many negative impressions? She whispered it to herself, trying to understand how.

Noticing her confusion, he switched tactics. "This might help; it's how my wife and I decided on the names of our own children."

"Try to imagine your son as he grows up. Think of the various ways the two of you will interact. Reading him a story, listening to him describe his day, teaching him something new, even scolding him for disobedience. Listen to how his name sounds when you say it in different conversations. Is it ideal? Is it what you want him to be called for the rest of his life?"

To be honest, Celestia thought the exercise to be rather silly. How could she know for sure what the dragon's personality would be like later in life? Could she truly determine whether any one name would stay suitable over time?

Nonetheless, she complied. And to her surprise, she found that it worked. Whether her tone was one of affection or command, Solaris never seemed to fit. There was an inescapable feeling of sternness to it; a coldness and lack of familiarity that made it seem more a title than anything else.

It also didn't help that there might be an unspoken pressure in being forced to live up to his namesake. That, she definitely did not want.

Looking back at the infant, she rubbed a hoof comfortingly over his spines. "I suppose that won't do," she admitted. "You don't look much like a Solaris to me."

"Princess? Are there any other names you liked," Twilight asked. Celestia pretended to scowl and turned her nose up in the air.

"Perhaps, but I don't know if I ought to share them with you. You seem to be quite the harsh critic! If you thought my first idea to be 'stuffy,' I'm afraid to know what you'll think of any more."

Twilight's ears flattened against her head. "I'm, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to be rude! I just wasn't thinking, please give me a second chance!"

The filly was literally begging by this point as her previous confidence eroded into something between terror and shame. Celestia frowned. She had known Twilight was a bit of a perfectionist, but had no idea it was this severe. She seemed convinced that the princess was going to revoke her studentship on the spot, all for one slip of the tongue.

Steadying the infant with one leg, Celestia pressed a hoof to her forehead and sighed. They were definitely going to have to work on this. She couldn't have her student suffering mental breakdowns every time she made a simple error!

Celestia reached out to place a comforting hoof on the girl's shoulder and said, "It's quite alright, my dear. After all, mistakes are how we learn, are they not?"

Twilight's expression made it clear that she didn't believe in the educational value of mistakes, but Celestia pressed on.

"So then, would you like to help me with some other names? It's quite helpful to have a second opinion."

Despite her obvious excitement, Twilight looked down at her hooves and mumbled, "I don't know if I should. I don't want to upset you again."

"You needn't ever worry about upsetting me, Twilight Sparkle," she said, using the unicorn's full name for emphasis. "Think of it as your first lesson, one that requires you to carefully choose and weigh your words." She paused, and then continued with a playful grin. "Unless the name is exceptionally bad, then I give you permission to be as harsh as you please!"

Twilight visibly relaxed, though it was unclear whether this was due to Celestia's reassurance or the challenge of the impromptu lesson she had been given. Lifting her head, she gave the princess a bright smile, her eyes narrowed in determination.

"Alright, I'm ready!"

"Then we'd better not waste time, I think our young friend is becoming restless."

Indeed, the dragon's struggles were making him much more difficult to hold, and he'd nearly fallen out of Celestia's grip before she used her other hoof to steady him.

"Shh, calm down, little one. Don't be afraid," she said as she rocked him gently in her forelegs. "Everything's alright. Mommy's here."

That seemed to do the trick. The dragon settled back into her embrace, seemingly calm.

She turned back to Twilight. "Now then, what do you think about…"

Off to the side, Sweet Grass was motioning the other adults to back away, maintaining the privacy between student and teacher. Left to their own devices, the two began working their way through what names Celestia could remember.

"I've always been partial to the name Hyperion. What do you think of it," Celestia asked. Twilight mouthed the word silently, testing the sound of it.

"Uh-uh," she finally said. "It sounds too formal, and it's… kind of strange."

"How so?"

Twilight paused as she tried to think of a suitable example. "Well, it doesn't sound like a real name to me. I mean, if a colt came up to me on the street and introduced himself with it, I'd think he was making it up!"

"It doesn't even seem recognizable?" Even though she believed Twilight's words, Celestia couldn't understand how the name could be unfamiliar. It may not have been especially common, but she remembered hearing it frequently in her childhood.

"Well, let's try another one, shall we? What about…"

But nothing seemed to fit. Aither, Phaeton, Eosphoros, every suggestion was eventually rejected either by Twilight or the princess herself. Celestia was beginning to think she'd be forced to visit Cerridan again, if only to find any suitable draconic names!

Coming to the last name on her mental checklist, she asked, "What about Helios?"

Twilight repeated the name and smiled. "I like it!"

After testing it out herself, Celestia was surprised to discover that she did as well. Thrilled that neither of them had found any faults with the name, she lifted the dragon up to eye-level.

"What do you think, Helios? Do you like your new name?"

He gave no sign that he was even aware of her presence. Instead, his eyes were unfocused and staring into the distance, and she could see his mouth moving, as though trying to form words. Then he paused. His mouth opened and closed. Then an expression of loss and despair passed over his face, and he threw back his head and screamed.

It was loud, a far louder sound than she would have ever believed such a tiny creature could make, and it was nearly enough of a shock to make her drop him in her surprise.

"I don't think he liked that one," Twilight said weakly. The filly had jumped several inches back at the sudden noise, and was now eyeing the dragon cautiously in case he did so again.

Celestia wasn't sure. That hadn't seemed like a typical cry of discomfort or attention. There was something about this dragon that she just couldn't put her hoof on. What that something was, however, she had no idea.

She waited, but no additional cries were voiced. In fact, after that last outburst, he completely relaxed, nuzzling into her chest and about to nod off. With a smile on his face, no less!

Though she still didn't quite believe it… it looked like Twilight was correct. "Well then, we certainly can't use that name," she said morosely.

The other ponies had regrouped around them after the dragon's cry, and now Sweet Grass spoke up.

"Begging your pardon, your majesty. But I think I may know the problem with the many names you've suggested."

Twilight stared at him incredulously, and Celestia imagined that they were both wondering why he hadn't shared this information a bit sooner. "You do? Well then, out with it!"

"Well, first I must ask a question of my own. The names you'd considered… were they ones you'd heard or known when you were a filly?"

Though confused, Celestia answered, "Why, almost all of them, though some were from the early years after my coronation. What difference does that make?"

"Forgive me for being blunt," Sweet Grass said. "But don't the records date your coronation as being a few thousand years in the past?"

"I don't see how reminding me of my age is relevant to this discussion," Celestia snapped.

"But it is," he explained. "Or rather, the age of the names is relevant. You see, princess, the types of names you considered have become rather… archaic over the years. Many of them have a historic or even mythological sound to them. They are stately, to be sure, but they don't quite fit with cultural norms."

Now Celestia understood. The names she had picked might have worked perfectly in the early days of her and Luna's reign, but would be severely dated in this day and age, even amongst the most noble ponies at court.

"So what would you suggest," she asked.

The green stallion paused to think. "Hmm, I think something short would be best. Quick, easy to say and remember. A name that suits him, but only him."

Celestia nodded, running a hoof slowly over the dragon's spines. Twilight noticed the subtle movement, and her eyes lit up.

"Princess! I've got it! His name should be Spike!"

"Spike," Celestia repeated dumbly, still surprised by the suggestion.

Twilight nodded. "Yea, just like the ones covering his back!"

Celestia looked down at the row of green spines. Spike… it was certainly… different from the ones she had suggested.

Seeing her teacher's hesitance, Twilight began explaining. "It's nice and short, just like Mister Sweet Grass said, so nopony would forget it or mess it up! And I bet there isn't a pony in Equestria with that name, so it'd be just for him. It's also a tough sounding name, like the nicknames my brother used for his friends, so I know he'll like it!"

Celestia had to admit the girl had a point. Several, to be precise. It might not be the most regal name in the world, but there was a certain strength to it, and a uniqueness that set it apart from typical equine names. Simple, powerful, unforgettable. Yes, it was perfect. And maybe she could still use Helios for a middle name…

"Spike," she murmured, testing the sound and feel of it. The baby nuzzled further into her coat, mumbling sleepily.

The princess smiled. It looked like he approved of this one. Looking back at Twilight, she nodded.

"I think you've found the right name, Twilight. And I think Spike would agree."

As the unicorn beamed up at her, one of the professors asked, "Have you decided then, princess?"

"Indeed so. Thanks to the expert advice of my young student," she said with a wink to Twilight. "I have decided that from this point on, my son will be named Spike."

As the other ponies voiced their approval, none noticed the shimmering air over Spike's head. Celestia felt the air around Spike raise slightly in temperature. It grew warmer and warmer, until it seemed like she was sitting directly before a bonfire. The heat was somehow comforting, protective, and the alicorn's spine tingled as an unseen presence pulled itself free of the dragon's body, its task complete and time short.

Taking one last look at his son, Akatosh placed an ethereal kiss to Spike's forehead before departing for his own world.

_The name suits him well, princess. Take care of him, this child who I love best._

As the air around her cooled, Celestia blinked. For a moment, she thought she had heard a voice whispering in her ear.

"I will," she murmured, not even realizing she had spoken.

And so they went their separate ways, yet both the god of time and the goddess of the sun felt the same shared hope.

That from this point on… everything would be alright.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Arrows whistled through the air, their barbed tips seeking flesh.

The Daedra was already airborne, no time to move or guard its body. It tried throwing both arms up and in front of its face in an impromptu defense, but a half-score of ebony tipped arrows still peppered its body; pinpoint hits that splintered bone and punctured lungs, liver, heart and stomach. The force of so many shots reversed the Daedra's momentum, tossing it back and to the ground. It forced itself to stand, eyes glazed in confusion.

Responding to some unspoken command, a golden-skinned woman raced across the courtyard and slammed headlong into the Daedra's side, her axe buried up to the haft in its shoulder.

The Daedra snarled, more out of annoyance than pain. Its head darted out, jaws snapping at air as the Aureal danced back, abandoning her weapon. The Daedra tensed for a leap.

A second woman, this one clad in armour only a touch darker than her skin, charged in from its other side and clubbed it square in the back with a two-handed swing of her mace. It stumbled forwards, and the Aureal was there to meet it, pulling her axe free before clipping it across the chest with another slash.

Sheogorath stood and watched as the two forced the Daedra away from him. All across the courtyard, more of his troops were coming into view. Golden Saints and Dark Seducers alike. Archers stood ready atop the walls, foot soldiers were streaming out from both entrances to the city, and even the oft-scorned males of their races were swarming it, looking for an opening.

A part of him was pleased that his girls had performed such an expansive flanking maneuver. Another part of him was incensed that they had taken so long while he was fighting for his life.

A platoon of Mazken approached, their black armour looking insect-like in the afternoon sun. Though unarmed, the males carried massive, rectangular shields. Without speaking, they formed a half-circle and planted their shields into the ground, forming a literal wall of metal and flesh between the Daedra and their lord. Females crouched in the gaps between the men, bows at half draw, maces clutched tightly.

Their captain prowled up and down the ranks, barking commands when the formation failed to meet her approval. Only when she appeared satisfied with her troops did she turn and give the madgod her attention.

He dismissed her initial concerns as to his health, as well as her assurance that messengers had been sent to Brellach and Pinnacle Rock. True, it would be a tremendous boon to have the whole of their forces arrive in full, but he was confident the fight would be over soon enough. There was one thing that bothered him though…

"Jansa!"

The Seducer turned back, the smallest bit of apprehension in her eyes. "My lord?"

"While I do appreciate this fine display of military might you've produced on my behalf, I have to wonder why it's only arriving now? And why, pray tell, it wasn't there when our uninvited guest decided to PUNCH ME STRAIGHT THROUGH A WALL!?"

Jansa winced, and he could see the tenseness in her face before she answered. "We withdrew to the city, as we were ordered. Upon his arrival, he declared his business was with you alone, and bade us remove ourselves from the castle."

Sheogorath was incredulous. "And you listened? Why? Who in the name of Nocturnal thought that letting him run around unobserved was sound judgment?"

She bowed her head in apology. "You did, or rather, your predecessor." Before he could respond, she continued. "The first Sheogorath had little quarrel with his fellow princes. He had long since declared the Isles open to their visitations, and you did nothing to refute him. We assumed the old law held true."

The madgod blanched in embarrassment. Now that she mentioned it… he did recall hearing something along those lines from Haskill a half-dozen decades ago. Righteous anger slipped into awkward silence as he realized that most of this situation was his fault in one way or another.

He sighed. "Alright, soon as this is over that law's going to change, and I'm having a talk with you girls about inviting enemies in without asking first. What would your mother think?"

Thoroughly confused, the Mazken asked, "Our mother?"

Sheogorath shook his head. "Never mind." He was preparing to move through the line of shields and rejoin the fight when all went silent. Or rather, the sounds of combat ceased, dying down to nothing amid two other noises.

The first was a terrible ripping that sounded like a great sheet of fabric pulled in two. The second was the noise of blades driving through flesh and piercing metal. Sheogorath strode forward, hastily pushing aside the raised shields.

His troops were arrayed in a widening circle, each woman backing away, weapons raised and cautious. At the circle's center was the Daedra, along with the Mazken and Aureal that first joined the attack.

The Aureal lay at its feet in a growing puddle of blood. Her skin was pale and breathing shallow as she pressed a hand over the ragged, bleeding hole where her left arm had been. The Daedra stood over her, one hand still clutching the arm it had torn away, the second buried in the Mazken's chest. Its eyes never leaving Sheogorath, it threw the arm aside and lifted the dark-skinned woman into the air. He could see the muscles in its arm as it clenched its fist.

The Mazken vomited blood over its arm as her body fell limp, heart pulped in the Daedra's grip. Stepping to the side, it stomped down on the Aureal, crushing her skull before dropping the Mazken's body beside her.

It was still staring him down, seemingly unfazed by the two score enemies that surrounded it. In truth, it may not have even noticed, deaf to all but its own rage. Talons unfolded, and its legs bent into a crouch.

Sheogorath knew what was coming. "EVERYONE GET READY," he roared out in warning. "IT'S GOING TO…"

The Daedra was already leaping, claws glinting in the sunlight. They slammed home in the shoulders of an Aureal, and the Daedra planted its legs into her still falling body and kicked off like a springboard. It hit the ground running, too far for any of the soldiers to catch as it sprinted towards him.

Three of the male Mazken lifted their shields, and the crouched archers loosed a series of fast, low shots. Barbed arrows struck its legs, stomach, groin. It neither slowed nor faltered.

More shields lifted, and the foot soldiers dashed out of the line, the metal barriers slamming back into the ground behind them. Though running full-speed, to Sheogorath they seemed sluggish, as though moving underwater. Grimly, he realized that it would look the same to the Daedra.

It swept through the attack like a sickle through wheat. Never losing pace, it broke one woman's back, swerved aside to plunge talons into the neck of a second, crushed the larynx of a third, and leapt over the top of a shield before kicking its bearer's spine out through his chest.

Reaching its target, it lifted an arm high over Sheogorath's head for a killing strike.

But Sheogorath was ready. The Daedra had expected him to dodge backwards, had angled its blow to catch him in retreat. Instead, he stepped inside and past the arc of its claws and hit it in the chest with a shoulder tackle. The hit drove both princes into the line of shieldmen. The Daedra snarled and drew back for another strike, only to have its arm gripped and held fast. Its head swiveled to see several Seducers pinning its arms, legs, and waist, trying to hold it still long enough for a fatal blow to be dealt.

Sheogorath backed away as several Aureals joined the grapple, attempting to restrain it by sheer weight and numbers. The Daedra roared in anger and managed to rip one arm loose. It tore and swung with its free arm, chopping at the hands that continued to grasp for it. Their arms drew back, blood pouring from numerous cuts. From there, it turned its claws on those who sought to trap it, gouging swaths of flesh from their bodies and forcing them to release their holds.

Once freed, the Daedra leapt up, arms stretched high over its head. A flickering red light formed above its hands, grew into a roaring orb of fire.

Sheogorath felt his mouth go dry, his gut clenching at the sight. The crackling fire was still growing, seeming to gorge itself on the air around it. It was then he saw that was exactly the case. Pure streams of magicka flashed into existence as the Daedra called more and more power from its own realm. The fire's glow was deepening, forming into a fierce and violent blue.

"RUN!" Sheogorath screamed over the sound of the flames. "For your lives, run now! Don't look back!"

The crowd of soldiers turned to flee, and Sheogorath was already sprinting back into the fray, already knowing he'd be far too slow to stop it.

The Daedra gave a furious bellow and flung the sphere to the ground.

The flash of light was monstrous, dazzling the onlookers and throwing their shadows out a hundred feet behind them. The shockwave followed, kicking up hurricane winds and bringing enough force and pressure to snap trees in half and shake the palace to its foundations. Sheogorath found himself being flung across the courtyard for the second time that day, and the dozen Mazken and Aureals at the blast's epicenter burst into flame and were thrown far into the sky, their ashes raining down over the courtyard.

When the dust cleared, the Daedra stood alone in the scorched crater made by the fireball. It was hunched over; eyes squeezed shut and painfully gasping for breath. Its forearms had been blown off halfway to the elbows, and the entire front of its body was charred to a sickening black. It swayed unsteadily and fell to its knees, letting out a raw hiss of pain as its burned skin hit the ground. Slumping forwards, it curled up further and waited for its body to heal.

It would have been the perfect time to attack, if Sheogorath had been in any condition to do so. As it was, the god of madness was currently sprawled out on the ground, too preoccupied with the ringing in his ears and the aching in his bones to do anything else. All around, his soldiers were in a similar state, lying about haphazardly, their bodies sprawled across one another like the aftermath of the world's worst bachelor party.

'Ught, what in the world WAS that,' Sheogorath wondered, trying to blink the afterimage out of his eyes. 'Did we finally get him so angry he decided to blow himself up? And I thought I was supposed to be the crazy one!'

By the time he'd regained his bearings, the Daedra was fully healed, its arms rebuilt, its skin glistening, looking soft and almost tender where it had re-grown.

'Still alive. Should've known it was too much to hope for…' Biting back a groan, Sheogorath managed to stand, brushing ashes off of his clothes and out of his hair. Ashes that had once been his soldiers, he realized with a grimace.

Despite the heavy price of that attack, Sheogorath couldn't help but feel relieved. He knew that destruction spells were not the Daedra's strong suit, and judging by how badly it had weathered the backlash, it certainly wouldn't be trying that little trick again.

It was difficult to be optimistic in a situation like this, but Sheogorath allowed himself to believe that the strain of loosing and healing from that last attack had wearied the Daedra enough that he could put an end to all this.

He moved past his soldiers, tersely ordering the squadrons to follow. Carefully stepping over the bodies of the dead, he advanced on the Daedra. It scrambled to its feet, eyes narrowed and sweeping over the crowd, as if finally noticing the increase in numbers. The pain from that explosion must have finally pushed the rage and adrenaline out of its system. Looking back, it focused on him and spoke for the first time since their fight began.

"Call them off, madgod," it demanded. "Your pawns have no place in our battle. Rein in your cowardice, and face me fairly!"

Sheogorath paused, his own adrenaline seeming to falter at the Daedra's words. There was something utterly ridiculous about them, whether it be the timing or just the nature of the demand. It wasn't that it was trying to make a civil request so soon after their attempts to kill each other. It wasn't that he was being asked to abandon a clear and tangible advantage. No, it was the fact that this Daedra, of all people, was all but calling him a cheater!

His laugh was harsh, derisive. "Fair? I'm shocked your forked tongue even knows the word! You who came to me yearning for blood and murder, you who attacked without warning or decorum, YOU WHO HAVE FOUGHT AND SLAIN WITH THE SHIELD OF IMMORTALITY EVER SHELTERING YOU, YOU WHO ENSNARE MORTALS WITH LIES AND DECEIT! **YOU DARE CHALLENGE MY HONOR?!**"

Sheogorath paused and drew in a breath. When he continued, his voice had lowered to a whisper, its soft tone somehow more terrible than a roar. "No, there will be no concessions for you. You butcher of children, you shackler of souls. I will use every power I wield, every being I command if it means killing you. Nothing will keep me from that."

Instead of being insulted or angered, the Daedra smiled wickedly. "Not even the lives of your subjects?"

Sheogorath scowled, though a sliver of doubt crept into his mind. "That is a serious threat. One I would not suffer lightly."

It nodded. "As I would expect from one so attached to his… pets," it spat the last word mockingly. "So I say again, call off these pawns. Fight me alone, or watch your world die with you."

He scoffed. "Bold claims, but you'll forgive my skepticism. You're not exactly prepared to fight an army."

It raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And when did I claim to be unprepared?"

It lifted an arm, hand limp and pointing to the ground. A black glow formed over the fingers and grew to envelope its palm. A flick of the wrist, and the light vanished with a rush of air.

When nothing happened, Sheogorath signaled his troops to advance. "Not a particularly damaging counterattack," he taunted.

As if in reply, the ground began to shake beneath them. The tremor forced the lesser Daedra to one knee, and even Sheogorath found himself setting his feet to keep balance.

The rumbling ceased, and the Daedra lifted a finger. "That," it said. "Is one."

'One,' Sheogorath wondered. 'One what?' He searched for some sign of the Daedra's attack, but the skies above them were as clear as before, and the only sound was of footsteps racing up from the city.

"Lord Sheogorath!" He turned to see Haskill hurrying towards them, the man's bald head damp with sweat.

"Haskill! About time you showed up! Can't say you're fashionably late though, hell, can't even say you're unfashionably late! Of all the crises you could have napped through, this is probably the worst!"

"Forgive me, milord," he panted. "But… have to… tell you… quickly…"

"Ah, ah, ah," Sheogorath said, hiking a thumb at the still-grinning Daedra. "I'm a tad preoccupied as it is. Whatever news you have, it needs to wait."

"But, milord," Haskill protested. "This is an emergency!"

"Then come back when it's a catastrophe!"

The ground rumbled once again. This time, the stones beneath their feet began to crack, and Sheogorath's castle shook on its foundations, walls shaking and windows shattering.

The Daedra lifted a second finger. "That makes two."

The connections began to form in Sheogorath's mind, and he looked down at Haskill and asked, "Where?"

"The Fringe," his servant replied.

Stepping back into the midst of his troops, Sheogorath closed his eyes and raised a hand to his temple. A vision of the Shivering Isles appeared as though he were flying miles above them. The view spiraled down towards the western coastline, until finally he was looking down on the village of Passwall.

The town was in ruins. Buildings aflame, inhabitants either fleeing for their lives or motionless in their own blood. Dark shapes moved across the scene; massive, crocodilian beasts and black-skinned demons in full armour. They continued their rampage, but Sheogorath's attention had moved on, to the two identical objects that rose up from the ground outside.

Each was surrounded by four barbed spires of rock growing out of the earth. In their midst rose a massive structure of bone and rock that took the shape of an inverted U. A veil of fire filled the interior, flames darting and licking out as though trying to escape. From inside the fire, another world could be seen, a terrible landscape filled with monstrous creatures, each one awaiting its turn to pass through.

Rather than feel the rumble of the third quake, Sheogorath watched as its source emerged. The spires erupted from the ground; columns grew out of the dust, bridged together, and then another veil of fire flickering into life.

Sheogorath ended the spell and opened his eyes, his angry glare fixed on the smiling Daedra.

"Oblivion Gates?!" He demanded.

"I thought you might appreciate the nostalgia. In truth, I had prepared these legions some time ago, to be used when my plans for Tamriel reached fruition. Now, however, they will serve equally well in hastening your death."

"Why there," Sheogorath asked, though he had already guessed the answer. "You had the time. Why not place the gate marks here in this courtyard? You could have easily flooded us with your troops, gained the advantage in an instant."

It chuckled. "That should be obvious. It places them at the greatest possible distance from you. While your armies march to this city, they will pour into your world like water from a breached floodgate."

It waved a hand dismissively towards the west. "By the time you have mustered a defense, organized a counterattack? They will have burned their way east, destroying all you have created. Your subjects, those mortals who you love best? They will be slaughtered wholesale, die screaming for mercy, their pleas unanswered. They will know, in their grief, that Sheogorath has betrayed them. That he held more love for a world not his own, than for those he called his people."

Sheogorath cursed inwardly. It was right, of course. There was too much distance between himself and the Fringe. What could they do? His mind raced, weighing options, knowing that every second counted.

Perhaps he could get a message to the reinforcements, get them marching westward immediately?

No good; that would still give the invaders plenty of time to organize and further build their numbers. He needed to hit them while they were still vulnerable, and he had to do it now!

But how, when the Daedra would be on his heels from the moment he left? He would have to buy some time, get it off his back…

His eyes flicked to the broken wall of his palace.

It stepped forward as if reading his thoughts. "You're plotting some devious act, are you not? Try, if you must. But know that if one of these children make to leave this courtyard, I will first cut their legs from under them and let them crawl off on the bloody stumps. And should you attempt to interfere with my forces, I will follow, teeth gnashing for blood like the cruelest of Hircine's hounds."

It stopped a few paces from Sheogorath, and its voice softened. No less cold, but now lacking malice. "There is, however, one option left to you. Let it not be said that I am without mercy." Its arm lifted, and it extended its hand towards him. "You need only give me what I want, and I will stay my hand."

Sheogorath stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the offered hand. The Daedra merely waited.

"The choice is yours, madgod. As it always has been. Tell me. Is the life of one dragon worth more than your own realm?"

Sheogorath seemed to deflate, his shoulders sagging, his head drooped. When he spoke, his voice was weary, as though the weight of centuries had finally caught up to him.

"There is truth in what you say. What manner of king trades the lives of his people for others? Who treats his realm to war and death when the means exist to prevent it? Nothing more than a fool, who must be taught to more carefully choose his battles."

He sighed, slowly lifting his hand. "I suppose that the greatest lessons must be learned harshly."

He reached out and clasped the Daedra's hand. "In that, my friend, you are an excellent teacher."

The Daedra smiled and opened its mouth to speak, but Sheogorath gave a monstrous pull, dragging it close before grasping its throat in a vice-grip.

"Too bad I'm a lousy student!" Sheogorath yelled before smashing his forehead into the Daedra's face. It reeled back from the head butt, and Sheogorath used the opportunity to loop his arm around a leg. Still gripping its neck, he strained to lift it into the air and turned to the hole in his castle.

With all the strength he possessed, Sheogorath threw the Daedra back into the deserted throne room. It struck one of the stone pillars and crumpled to the floor in a daze.

Gritting his teeth, Sheogorath cupped his hands and drew deep from the source of his power. His shoulder began to burn, but he ignored the pain and concentrated on the ball of electricity that crackled between his palms. Once he deemed the spell ready, he threw out his hands and fired a beam of lightning, not at the Daedra, but at the palace roof. The blast brought down half the ceiling, and the Daedra looked up in time to see several tons of stone and wood crashing down on its head.

For good measure, Sheogorath blasted away the rest of the support columns, collapsing the entire wing of his palace down around it. Once he was sure the Daedra was well and buried, he turned back to his troops. Power coursed through him, manifesting as visible waves of magicka that flowed over the god's body.

"Nelrene, Staada," he addressed the captains of the two races. "Send out your swiftest runners, have them seek out the reinforcements. Their orders have changed. They are to make for the Fringe with all possible speed. The women and men, alike."

His body was beginning to grow, his voice deepening to an amplified roar. "Spread this message to each and every soldier. We are not defending our realm. We are attacking, striking back at this invasion until it falls, routed, back to the pits from whence it crawled! We will push them out of our realm, and dam up the gates with the bodies of their dead!"

Sheogorath, now over twelve feet in height, pointed west and bellowed. **"These bloodthirsty fools want war? THE GOD OF MADNESS WILL SHOW THEM WAR!"**

The Saints and Seducers gave a unified cheer before racing for the stairways. Soon, the courtyard was empty but for Sheogorath and Haskill. The smaller man looked up and asked, "A fine speech, milord, but can they truly drive back the invasion?"

Sheogorath smiled mirthlessly. **"If he was speaking the truth, if his forces have indeed been preparing for war these many years? Likely not. But then, I don't require them to."**

He cast a look back at the collapsed throne room. **"If he takes his time digging himself out, and if my girls can hold their ground for a few short hours, we can stop this invasion in its tracks."**

Haskill remained unconvinced. "But how?"

"**Come now, Haskill. Have you forgotten who I am? The Hero of Kvatch? I'm probably the last person in Mundus you'd want to use Oblivion Gates against; I can tear them down in my sleep!"**

Finally understanding, Haskill found himself grinning back. "Quite so, milord. Though I have to wonder if you've grown rusty after so many years?"

"**Only one way to find out," **Sheogorath said. **"Of course, I'll be needing your help."**

The smile vanished from Haskill's face. "But, but my lord," he sputtered. "You must be joking! I've no skill at battle! I've never even held a sword!"

"**That might be true,**" Sheogorath conceded. **"But it's not you that's going to help me. I don't need Haskill**," he lifted his hand and summoned the Wabbajack. The other man's eyes widened.

"**I need Heyvkahsil."** Leveling the staff, Sheogorath fired.

The blast struck Haskill in the chest, expanding in a spider web pattern up the man's torso. For the briefest of instants, his body seemed to fight the change, and then his human form trembled and dissolved.

And what appeared was a dragon.

Sunlight glinted off of violet grey scales. Wings like sails beat the air, as if yearning to take flight. A long, serpentine tail swept across the ground, and a great, fanged maw lifted to the sky.

Heyvkahsil roared, his voice thundering across the Isles.

Sheogorath watched with a smile, their situation momentarily set aside as he watched his friend's joy at returning to his true form. It was ironic that he had returned this dragon's body after so recently stealing that of his brother's. He thought of Alduin, the one who, however indirectly, started all this. He tried to think of what grievance the Daedra held, why it would spare or slay an entire world to pursue him.

He thought of the bargain it had proposed.

He was not afraid to admit that he had been tempted. When the Daedra had stretched forth its hand, he had considered its offer. And really, who wouldn't? Any who said otherwise were lying through their teeth. Sheogorath knew that there was no god, no king, no man who was so righteous and self-assured that they would not, at least for a moment, consider sacrificing an innocent life if it meant saving others.

But by far the worst part of this already horrendous situation was that no matter the outcome, he would be there to witness the consequences. Whichever world burned, however many people died, he would be left standing over the ashes. The responsibility his. The failure… his.

And so there had been two paths before him. One, where the inhabitants of a single world would certainly die. The other, where the inhabitants of two worlds shared a chance for survival or destruction.

And he chose the lesser of two evils, though the path was steep and difficult, the fall that much more painful.

He had chosen his path. Now, it was time to walk it.

Forcing a grin to hide his unease, he stepped closer. "**So, this is what you used to look like, eh? Impressive, I admit! And quite an improvement over the bald head and potbelly. I wonder if my predecessor was just jealous of not having wings?"**

Heyvkahsil looked down, tears shining in his eyes. "Thank you, Lord Sheogorath. Truly, my deepest thanks."

"**Your real name and your real shape," **Sheogorath said. **"I'm only sorry it took something as tragic as the end of the world for me to return them."**

The dragon laid himself prone on the ground, his wings sweeping back. With a nod of his head, he beckoned Sheogorath to climb onto his back.

"Then I believe I should put your gift to use."

The madgod laughed. **"An excellent plan! But, do you remember how to fly? After all these years, you might've gotten… rusty,"** he prodded, turning Heyvkahsil's earlier taunt back at him.

"I have remembered and dreamt of this for millennia," was the dragon's short reply.

"**Works for me." **Sheogorath leapt onto the dragon and seated himself at the base of his neck, feeling as if the weight of the world had lifted from his shoulders. No more hesitation. No more worries. There was nothing left but to do or die.

"**Let's get to it, then! We have some gates to crash!"**

Heyvkahsil roared and took to the air.

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><p>.<p>

Glad this one's finished. Two months of damn near constant editing and rewriting. And honestly? Still not fully satisfied. Oh well, writing's a learning process I suppose, and one thing I've learned from this bitch of a chapter is that fight scenes are not my forte.

Anyway, thanks for reading, see you in chapter 9!


	9. Deicide

Well, here's chapter nine. Took a bit longer than I'd thought, but hopefully that delay will equate to higher quality writing. Here's hoping._  
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Chapter 9- Deicide

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_If a man does his best, what else is there?_

_Gen. George S. Patton_

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><p>.<p>

They skimmed low over the treetops, stripping leaves and breaking branches with each downbeat of his wings. The sky around them was beginning to darken, the dry wind carrying the scent of blood and metal and smoke. The horizon was lit with an unearthly glow, the light pulsing like some monstrous heartbeat.

Heyvkahsil's wings stroked furiously, the dragon constantly rising or dropping in altitude, doing everything possible to remain close to the ground. Sheogorath had pointed out that this was the best way to approach. The invaders would have no scouting parties, no airborne surveillance, no advance way of knowing what was on the way. Keeping low and out of sight would ensure that their arrival was a complete and hopefully panic-inducing surprise.

Even had he found fault with the strategy, Heyvkahsil would have welcomed the distraction. With the flight taking most of his attention, it helped keep his mind off the upcoming carnage. He was disappointed, though not surprised to see that his companion did not share his worry.

In fact, for a man heading out to single-handedly face down an invading army, Sheogorath was remarkably nonchalant. He stood proud and straight, an easy smile on his lips, and a stream of nonsensical chatter pouring from his mouth. To a casual observer, it would have seemed that the madgod was on his way to a picnic lunch rather than a battlefield.

But there was a hard glint in his eyes, a clear sign that he understood the looming danger, and relished it.

And why not? After all, Sheogorath was in his element here. If this were some children's story, now would be the climactic moment when the hero strides out valiantly to overcome the odds and save the world.

Heyvkahsil did not feel like a hero. He felt overwhelmed, out of place, and more than a bit confused on just what they were hoping to accomplish.

Craning back his neck, he called out, "So the two of us are simply going to attack them head-on?"

"**Yes! We'll catch them unaware, disorganize and demoralize them,"** Sheogorath yelled back over the wind.

"And once they decide to fight back," he asked. "Are we to hold our ground until your soldiers arrive?"

Sheogorath laughed. **"Oh, Heyvkahsil! Don't be ridiculous!"**

The dragon gave a sigh of relief. Perhaps this plan wasn't as suicidal as he'd thought?

"**Only one of us is going to hold his ground! The other has to go through the gates and bring them down!"**

Heyvkahsil's stomach lurched, what little reassurance he'd gained dwindling back to nothingness.

"So one of us is going to fight off an entire army, and the other is going to mount an attack on their home-plane," he demanded, voice more shrill than he'd intended. "Alone?!"

Sheogorath gave him a grin, obviously proud of his strategy. **"Exactly!"**

"Have I mentioned what a resoundingly STUPID idea that is?"

"**Repeatedly."**

The dragon groaned, knowing that any further argument would be useless.

"**Oh come on," **Sheogorath wheedled. **"It'll be perfect! No sane and self-respecting enemy would even consider, much less expect this kind of attack! They won't know what hit them!"**

Heyvkahsil wished for even a fraction of that confidence. The thrill of returning to his body had faded under the looming specter of battle and death. Those lights in the distance promised both, stirring up a plethora of emotions in the dragon's heart. None of them were pleasant.

He had never acted out of violence, in human or dragon shape. He had never struck a blow, never drawn blood, certainly never taken a life. Despite having witnessed countless deaths in the past, the thought of actually killing made his stomach churn. He gave his claws an experimental clench. He tried to imagine those talons driving through flesh, bones crunching beneath his feet, the warm and sticky feeling of blood covering his scales.

Bile rose in his throat, and he drew in several large gulps of air until the nausea passed. Rain clouds were piling up on the horizon, their thick, black shapes turning his thoughts on an even darker course.

They might die today. The realization was cold and sharp, and so alien that he nearly froze in panic.

Not once, in all the years since he first set foot on the Shivering Isles, had Heyvkahsil's life been in danger. As the personal steward of Sheogorath, he was untouchable. Even the Greymarches were relatively harmless, as Jyggalag himself decreed that he alone was to be spared when the Isles were razed.

But now? Now he was flying directly towards a legion of merciless, fanatical invaders. As powerful as he might be, how long would it take before they dragged him down through sheer numbers?

The realization came again, stronger and more urgent. HE MIGHT DIE TODAY. The possibility was frightening, painful. He began to wish that Sheogorath had never returned this body, had never placed this burden upon him.

He barely felt the hand come to rest against his neck, but then Sheogorath's voice reached his ears, soft and almost paternal. **"You're nervous. I can feel it through your muscles, see it in the tenseness of your body. I know this task is a grave one, and I am sorry for placing it upon you."**

A bolt of shame cut through the fear, and Heyvkahsil kept his eyes forward, letting the silence speak for him.

"**But I do not doubt that you can succeed,"** Sheogorath continued. **"You guided me on my journey to godhood. You counseled me all these years I have ruled. Never once have you led me astray, never once failed when needed."**

The hand pressed down against his scales, and he felt a sudden warmth as a rush of power crept into his blood.

"**I trust you, to a degree that no other in Nirn or Oblivion can match. Now, trust me when I say that I know you will see this through."**

The warmth had kindled into a heat that spread throughout his body. Adrenaline shot through him, fatigue and worry swept away in the literal flood of energy. Heyvkahsil did not know what Sheogorath had done, but he was thankful for it.

It was as if his body and mind had been set ablaze. For a moment, his mind connected to his master's. He felt anger and resolve, and found that they were his emotions as well. Bloodlust welled up as he thought of the invaders that dared to attack HIS home, that dared to threaten HIS brother!

"What are we waiting for," he snarled. "WULD…"

His thu'um tore a thin, invisible line in the fabric of reality. The planar tear collapsed in a millisecond, but they had already slipped inside.

They had not left the plane, but merely slid beneath its physical surface. But the incision was sealing, pushing them along as it closed.

To any observer, it would appear to be nothing more than a teleportation spell. The dragon and rider simply ceased to be in one location and appeared in another. But brief as it was, they both felt the dizzying rush of speed and the terrible pressure as they reached, and quickly surpassed the speed of light.

Then, with a burst of sound, they re-entered the physical world. The rip closed behind them with a deafening inrush of air and light. Still dizzy from his first thu'um in centuries, Heyvkahsil hovered in midair and observed the chaos beneath him.

All around them, the Fringe was burning. The village of Passwall was engulfed in flames, its spires and houses lighting the sky like torches. A hundred or more lesser fires dotted the landscape, devouring anything that could burn.

The ground was a chaotic jumble of movement, like a giant anthill that had been kicked wide open. Figures scurried in all directions, some frantically seeking to escape the violence, some locked in the throes of combat, and a growing number looking and pointing skyward…

Heyvkahsil was in awe as he took in the sights, the sounds, the smells. He could see the sunlight glint off the weapons and beetle-black armour of the Dremora. The smoke and the rich, coppery smell of blood made his nostrils sting. The shouted orders, the screams of pain, the howls and snarls of the bestial Daedra all mixed into a cacophony of pain and death.

The anger in his heart kindled into hatred. Sheogorath gazed down at the crowd and smiled coldly.

"**Let's get to work."**

"NAH KEST!"

The final words of his shout finally caught up to them, and it split the sky with a sound like thunder. A chorus of shouts rippled through the crowds of Dremora. Arrows were nocked, spells were readied, and all weapons and eyes focused squarely on the new arrivals.

Whatever attack they intended, it came too slow. Heyvkahsil gave a strong, powerful stroke of his wings before tucking his limbs and screaming into a dive. He rocketed towards the ground like a runaway meteor, jaws yawning open.

"Yol… TOOR SHUL!"

A jet of fire burst from the dragon's mouth, crashing into the ranks of Dremora. Those at the center of the flames had no time to scream before they were disintegrated. Those at the fire's edge died only a fraction slower, their flesh bursting into flame, their armour fusing and melting against their bones.

Unfortunately, Heyvkahsil was too engrossed in the destruction he was causing to notice just how close the ground was becoming, or how steep their dive had actually been. Then Sheogorath was screaming at him to level out, and he could see the individual faces of the Dremora beneath him. He unfurled his wings.

They could not have been more then forty feet off the ground, and it took nearly all of that distance before they were climbing back into the sky. He was sure they had been mere inches over the Dremora's heads, easily within reach of their weapons if any of them had been quick enough to strike.

They banked low over the town, his wings stirring up eddies of smoke and dust. Once again, he swooped low over the invaders. Once again, he poured flaming death upon them. His fire burned white-hot, melting sand into glass and immolating the soldiers caught within. Whatever he targeted, he destroyed.

And all the while, Sheogorath was casting spells without pause. His hands flaring with indigo light, he flung magicka into the crowds. Strangely enough, the spells appeared to do nothing. Wherever they hit, the ground merely glowed for a short time. Whatever purpose they served, only the madgod knew.

Heyvkahsil was coming around for a third pass when he noticed the Dremora were no longer scattering at his approach, but already loosing a counterattack. Arrows shot from their bowstrings, bolts of ice and lightning burst from outstretched hands, and throwing spears and daggers of all sizes were cast towards them.

Heyvkahsil braced himself for the onslaught of projectiles, knowing that there was no time to dodge. But before even a single arrow could strike, a dazzling blue light flared up just inches from the dragon's snout. They flew straight through the barrage, every spell dissipating, every weapon deflected.

He looked back to see Sheogorath astride his neck, arm extended and hand glowing the same blue as the shield. The madgod threw him a lopsided grin.

"**Think we've worn out our welcome?"**

"Well, they ARE trying to kill us," he responded sarcastically.

Sheogorath nodded. **"A good point. We should probably stop playing around." **He pointed to the leftmost Oblivion Gate. **"How about you fly over there and hit them right in front of the gate? Something big, something that'll clear the whole area!"**

Heyvkahsil circled the gate, searching for the most opportune target. He found it in a tightly clustered squadron of Dremora churls, with a single kynreeve barking orders from their midst. He drew back his head and inhaled.

"Bah… AG DU!"

He spat a ball of roaring fire. The missile slammed into the group like an incendiary hailstone, tossing the black-skinned figures into the air. Any other nearby troops were thrown back by the explosion, leaving a blackened crater littered with scraps of armor and gobbets of flesh.

They hovered just over the crater, each of them looking to the other as if expecting some action.

"What now," Heyvkahsil asked. "Will you make your way inside while I keep them occupied?"

Sheogorath scowled at him in annoyance. **"Of course not! YOU'RE the one who's going in!"**

The dragon nearly fell out of the sky, temporarily forgetting to beat his wings in surprise. "Me!? But… but why?"

"**To destroy the gate, of course! Weren't you paying attention earlier?"**

"No, I mean yes! But why am I the one doing it?"

The madgod rolled his eyes. **"Come now, use your head! You want me to march into one of those gates, where hundreds if not thousands of soldiers are waiting to cross over? And then, after wading through that little quagmire of armour and weapons, hike all the way to the tower, climb it, and finally bring it down? Preposterous! Why should I spend hours doing that when you can just fly over them and right to the top?"**

Heyvkahsil struggled for a counter-argument. "Well… but… I… I don't even know how to destroy a gate! You can't expect…"

Sheogorath waved a hand dismissively. **"Couldn't be simpler! Just find the biggest, tallest tower with glowing windows, use those big, taloned clodhoppers of yours to knock the wall down, and then rip out the sigil stone! It's so easy, even a madman could do it!"**

Heyvkahsil was about to retort that if it was so simple, Sheogorath could get off his divine ass and do it himself.

Unfortunately, Sheogorath was already bailing off. **"Toodle-oo!"**

Heyvkahsil watched in slack-jawed bewilderment as the god of madness plummeted towards the ground, landing in a spectacular, if somewhat gruesome fashion.

Emotions ran wild through his head. A part of him was horrified at what he remembered lay beyond those gates. Another part was disgusted at the thought of leaving Sheogorath to face such odds alone. And then there was the very small, yet very enraged part that felt incensed at the madgod giving him what was obviously the more dificult task.

Muttering several draconic curses at his infuriating master, Heyvkahsil pumped his wings and dove headfirst into the gate.

* * *

><p>.<p>

The moon hung high over the city, a shining beacon in a cloudless sky. Below lay the city of Canterlot, and nopony could deny that the city always seemed most beautiful at night. The windows of its towers and spires blazed with light, the warm glow of innumerable candles, fireplaces and torches illuminating courtyards and terraces, balconies and gardens. Even the streets were filled with life and energy. Ponies passed in and out of nightclubs, socialized at dinner parties, relaxed in cafes and restaurants. They ambled through the torch and moonlit streets, reveling in the excitement of the nightlife, the companionship of one another, and the sheer, simple pleasure of being alive.

There was one pony, however, that did not appreciate the hustle and bustle of the finest and grandest city of the world. As a matter of fact, he didn't give a good goddamn about any of it.

Cascade trudged down Mane Street, feeling as though his legs had turned to stone with every step. Conversation ground to a halt as he passed, and ponies were quick to step out of his way, casting him wary looks as if he might lash out at any second. His uniform was rumpled, his mane and tail in complete disarray. Bags were visible under his bloodshot eye, and his face was set in the type of surly grimace one would associate with a massive hangover.

Not that anypony would say it to his face, but he looked like shit.

He certainly felt like it. His entire day had been an unbroken string of complications, one after another. When he advised the princess to let him take care of everything, he didn't expect to be doing it quite so literally.

Things had gone sour right from the beginning. The sudden rush to form a nationwide sensor array had negated any chance for him to deploy his hoofpicked and trained soldiers. Even if the entire royal guard had been assigned to help with transportation, there would have been no way to get them situated in time.

Instead, he had been forced to reassign any unicorn that happened to be qualified and stationed in the area. The result was a mixture of soldiers from differing squadrons, companies, regiments, and everything in between, making for an uncoordinated, undisciplined, and uncooperative band of misfits.

Looking back, it would have been easier herding cats than getting that bunch to work together.

Sadly, things had not ended there. Whether it be the local pegasi refusing to halt the weather or Ryegate pissing and moaning about being precluded from command, everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. And that was even before that damn Rainboom lit up the sky!

But now, thank Celestia, it was over, and there was nothing to stop him from heading straight to the officer's club, ordering a bucket of oatmeal stout, and drinking until Tartarus froze over, thawed, and froze again.

A hoof tapped his shoulder.

Cascade froze, inwardly decided that whoever wanted him for whatever reason, it was not worth it. Without so much as a backwards glance, he continued walking.

The tap came again, along with a tense and nearly inaudible "General, sir?"

Wishing this annoyance would spontaneously combust, Cascade grit his teeth and turned to see a member of the royal guard. The colt was young, an obvious FNG, and clearly scared out of his mind.

A twinge of pity wormed its way through his frustration, and the unicorn resisted the urge to order his subordinate to go jump off a bridge.

"Yes, _corporal_," he growled out.

"Ah… excuse me… sir…" the pegasus said, stumbling over his words as he gave a nervous salute. "I've been looking for you… to escort… that is… your orders are to report to the palace immediately… well, as soon as you returned to Canterlot… so…"

"Understood," he said wearily, waving the guard off. Well, that just bucking figured. Somepony was 'ordering' him to the castle. And he had a very good idea who, as only one individual possessed the authority to order him about. Hell, she was the only pony excluding his wife that could technically make him do anything!

So with a heavy heart, he changed course and plodded slowly towards the castle. As wonderful as a cold beer sounded, it wouldn't do to keep the princess of ponykind waiting.

Oh no, that wouldn't do at all.

After a long hike to and through the castle, Cascade finally stumbled his way into Celestia's chambers. The alicorn looked up from where she lay relaxing on the bed, one wing extended as though covering something. Her soft smile was almost enough to lift him out of his funk.

Almost.

"Ah, Cascade, I'm pleased that you made it back safely." She gestured to a nearby cushion. "Please, take a seat. You look as though you could use the rest."

He grunted out a disconnected string of words and closed the door behind him. The room was warm and dimly lit, the fire's glow casting light over furniture and the elegant sky and starscape murals on the walls. It was a grand and beautiful room, a sanctum that only the closest and most cherished friends of the princess were allowed to enter. Most ponies would give up their right foreleg to merely look inside. Cascade would have given both his hind legs if he'd stumbled into a bar instead.

Reaching his destination, he flopped bonelessly onto the cushion. As an afterthought, he brought a hoof to his forehead in the laziest salute possible.

"Reporting as ordered," he mumbled into the pillow, far too exhausted to maintain his usual poise and decorum.

Celestia gave an amused sigh and levitated a full teacup down in front of the general's nose. "Drink up, my friend. I'll not have you dozing off in the middle of your report."

He took a sip and grimaced. Herbal tea was definitely not his preferred beverage after a long day's work. If she was going to bribe him, she could at least offer something a bit harder!

She clucked her tongue. "My, aren't we cheeky today? Traipsing in here like some undignified vagrant, turning up your nose at my offer of tea, and then demanding booze in exchange for information?"

Realizing that he'd been mistakenly complaining out loud, Cascade gulped and quickly downed the rest of the cup.

"That's better," she said with a nod. "And, fortunately for you, I happen to be in a rather… celebratory mood tonight." Her horn glowed, and a dark metal flask quickly flew from her desk to Cascade's gleeful hooves.

The unicorn beamed and quickly unscrewed the cap, savoring the rich scent of whiskey that emanated from within. "I love you, you know that right?"

"Flattery was never your strong suit," she said with a chuckle. Cascade merely shrugged and took a long pull from the flask, the tension in his body seeming to fade away as the liquid worked its magic.

When he finally lowered the flask from his lips, she asked, "Now, can you tell me about the Element bearers?"

With the hot glow of triple-distilled ambrosia in his belly, Cascade straightened up at once, though his mouth remained in a frown at the memories of the day.

"Of course," he said. "Following your departure, I initiated a sustained, telepathic communiqué between the various listening posts and monitoring teams spread throughout the kingdom. We then conducted several drills involving the discharge of spells at various degrees of strength, to help in identifying and disregarding false contacts."

Pausing, Cascade cleared his throat and took another quick swig from the flask. "As I'm certain you noticed, a visual anomaly manifested shortly before 0700 hours in the skies northeast of Cloudsdale. At the same time, sixteen of our monitoring teams reported a magical disturbance of extreme strength, registering at 8.6 on the Kolchev scale and originating from an unverified location within the Everfree Forest. From there, things became… chaotic."

"I must confess to have eavesdropped for a moment after the rainboom appeared," Celestia admitted. "It sounded as if your stallions were in severe disarray."

He shot her a dry look. He didn't know how she could so casually dismiss such an absolute cluster buck, but to him it was along the same lines as comparing a static shock to being struck by a lightning bolt.

"No, your highness," he growled. "Disarray would be your mane getting blown out of place by the wind. What happened to us would be like your mane being tossed in every direction at once, and then the individual hairs start screaming at each other until you want to rip the damned things right out of your head!"

Celestia laughed, obviously taking great pleasure in imagining the scene. Cascade used the opportunity to take another pull from the flask.

"Surely it couldn't have been that bad?"

"Oh no, no, no… it was worse!" He realized that his words were becoming more forceful, his syllables starting to blend, and he quickly capped the flask before his coherency could suffer further.

"What else happened?" Her voice was soothing, her expression sympathetic and patient. With his inhibitions already lowered, he could feel the frustration and stress of the day reaching its boiling point.

"What else happened? Utter chaos happened," he moaned. "Every channel lit up at once, each citing magical discharges all across the map. They didn't bother cross-checking with other teams, didn't identify and disregard false echoes. They were acting like foals on a damn treasure hunt, with a prize going to whoever got the first one!"

The princess tilted her head. "But did you not anticipate such a level of confusion? I assumed that was what you hoped to solve with the redundancy and overlap of the sensors?"

Her voice trailed off, and he could see a measure of uncertainty in her eyes.

"Were… were you unable to locate any of them," she asked hesitantly.

Cascade gave a quick shake of his head, retrieving a sheaf of papers from one of his saddlebags. "No, we got 'em all."

"Though it should have been twice as quick and ten times easier," he muttered.

The papers glowed with Celestia's magic and formed a semicircle before her. He watched from around the flask as her eyes flicked between pages.

After locating the bearers, they had been instructed to observe, though not to directly approach. That restriction had prevented them from learning much more than names and physical appearance, location, maybe a few prominent personality traits. Certainly not enough to indicate whether the girls were in the slightest bit capable of saving the entire world.

Her brow furrowed, a sign that she was deep in thought. He wondered if she shared his worries. Mystical Elements or not, they were little more than fillies, and he sincerely doubted they would stand a chance against a being as powerful and ruthless as Nightmare Moon.

"I was expecting them to be more widespread," she noted. "Two in Cloudsdale, two in Ponyville, the others not far off."

Celestia shuffled the papers around, looking as though she had reached an undesirable conclusion. "Cascade," she finally asked. "What are the logistics of providing transportation, food, and housing accommodations for all six of these fillies?"

The question caught him off guard. "For how long? And how often?"

Celestia brought a hoof to her mouth. "Daily visits twice a week, at the very least. And perhaps overnight stays for the weekends…"

He understood where she was going with this. If the six were going to work together, it was imperative for them to meet and begin interacting as soon as possible. He didn't think much of the kind of scheduled meetings Celestia was considering, though.

"I think you're on the right track, princess, but why make things more difficult than necessary?"

Even from behind the papers, he could feel her arcing a curious eyebrow in his direction. "Wouldn't it be more feasible," he continued, "to simply move them all to the same area? With them all living in the same city, their interactions would be frequent and sustained."

"From a tactical standpoint, this would also make it easier to monitor and protect them in the case of emergency, and would also reduce the time needed for them to organize and launch their counterattack on Nightmare Moon."

There was no response for several moments, and then Celestia wryly remarked, "A very convincing argument, Cascade. Had I known that drunkenness provided such inspiration, I'd have brought that flask to every council meeting."

The unicorn laughed. "I certainly wouldn't object! Though with Sweet Grass trying to toss me out for debauchery, I doubt we'd get a thing accomplished."

Celestia responded with a soft giggle, and the two friends once again fell into a comfortable silence. The alicorn returned her attention to the reports, while Cascade returned his attention to the whiskey.

With the flask finally empty, the unicorn lowered it to the floor and looked back to his princess. "So then, what kind of housing should I reserve for the girls?"

The row of documents parted like an opening curtain, revealing Celestia's perplexed face.

"You know, for these fillies once we've brought them to Canterlot," he explained.

"They won't be staying in Canterlot," she said.

"No? But I thought…"

"For occasional visits," she interrupted. "As a permanent home, I feel it could do more harm than good. Too high-profile, and with so many other ponies, excitement, distractions, it could easily hinder their progress."

He nodded in understanding. "Where then? Cloudsdale would require long-term enchantments for two-thirds of them. Fillydelphia is too great a distance…"

"Ponyville. It's easily reachable from Canterlot, as well as quite close to the Elements themselves."

"Good enough for me," he agreed. "First thing tomorrow I'll start making arrangements for their new homes in Ponyville and begin contacting the families. If all goes well, I can promise all six of them there by week's end."

"Actually, I think it best if you allowed me to take care of this," she said. "I also believe it would serve us better if they each moved to Ponyville separately, with a period of time to settle in before the next arrival."

Cascade was perplexed. "How so?"

Celestia's smile was devious. "Considering the town's size, I've little doubt the Elements there are already acquainted. And with a bit of harmless manipulation, their bond can be easily reinforced. From there, I need only steer their fellow bearers towards them. Perhaps a business, or some civic duty that will ensure a meeting."

"A sensible plan, but why not bring them together all at once?"

"Because it will be less threatening to meet as individuals than as a group. When each mare arrives, she will initially meet, and befriend one or both of the original residents. They, in turn, will introduce her to those who arrived before."

"But we don't need them to be best friends, only to cooperate effectively. Or does building a rapport somehow lead to a greater increase in their power, or make it easier for the Elements to coordinate?"

Celestia shot him an amused look.

"An extreme understatement, but correct nonetheless." She explained how the six Elements functioned as a whole, a combined force that could only function if each piece was unified with the others.

Something clicked in the stallion's mind at those words, and he felt a twinge of fear creep through the alcoholic buzz covering his thoughts.

"You said they all have to work in tandem," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Did you mean that the Elements themselves need to be unified, or their bearers?"

"Both," Celestia responded. "The Elements represent balance, equilibrium. So too must the bearers. They must trust one another, care for one another. They must share a common goal, their minds focused and hearts pure. That shared harmony is what gives life to the Elements themselves."

"What if they're not? What if one of them isn't… in line with the rest?"

Celestia frowned. "Then the remaining Elements would be useless. Why? Do you worry that one might be captured, or flee?"

"No, your majesty. What I'm imagining is something far worse."

He leaned forwards. "What if… one or more of them carries Nightmare Moon's essence? What if they fall under her control?

* * *

><p>.<p>

Sheogorath leaps from the dragon's back, paying no heed to the indignant words of his companion. He falls fast and lands hard, toppling a Dremora mage as it tries to ready a spell.

The Dremora bellows and scrambles to its feet, tugging at the mace in its belt. Sheogorath remains on his back, two hands calmly lifting and grasping hold of thin air. With a triumphant snarl, the Dremora throws itself forwards.

There is a flash of light and the smell of heated iron. An object appears in Sheogorath's hands, shining like quicksilver. The spear is long and impossibly heavy, with four upward curving spikes surrounding the wicked, bladed tip.

In an instant, Sheogorath rises to one knee and plants the butt of the spear into the charred earth. Unable to stop, the Dremora comes down with the full weight of its body driving the spear in and through its chest. The weapon blazes with light as organs char and blood flashes into steam. The spearpoint shakes and rattles, seemingly possessed by a mind of its own as the Dremora's eyes glaze.

Sheogorath sets a boot against the corpse's chest and rips the spear free, allowing it to topple backwards into the dust. Above him, Heyvkahsil vanishes into the gate, and he silently wishes his friend luck before his attention turns back to the fight.

The crowd stretches out to either side, a shifting field of black armour and weapons. Countless eyes are fixed to the madgod, each filled with anger and the promise of violence. But they advance slowly, each waiting for his fellows to make the first move. For all their arrogance, for all their discipline, he knows they are afraid.

Sheogorath stands tall, the Spear of Bitter Mercy firmly in his grip. He lifts both arms as if in welcome.

"**Come on then,"** he roars. **"I'LL CRUSH YOU ALL!"**

For a few agonizing seconds, the legion freezes, his voice rumbling over them like thunder. Then they yell in furious unison and surge forward, thousands of swords, axes and other weapons raised to strike.

Sheogorath is already gone, vanishing and reappearing several hundred feet into the crowd. The Xivilai commander is screaming orders at his troops when the white-haired deity flashes into being next to him, beard flecked with blood, spear drawn back for a strike.

Eyes widen, hands fumble for a weapon, but the Spear of Bitter Mercy flashes up and across like a comet, its tip slicing through flesh, muscle and bone. Before the severed head can begin to fall, Sheogorath slays five others with a powerful roundhouse swing and teleports away.

The helmeted head falls and strikes the ground with a clang. Then the screams begin.

The Fringe erupts with the sounds of battle. The cries of the wounded, the clipped and increasingly frantic commands, the clashing of metal against metal, and the wet squelch of blades meeting flesh.

Confusion reigns. The bewildered Daedra see allies on all sides, then a flash of light, a rush of air, and the squadron beside them collapses in a spray of blood and gore. With no clear enemy or strategy, discipline erodes. Some attempt to fortify and defend their positions. Some scatter in panic. Most attempt to rally their brethren and push deeper into the Isles, hoping against hope that they survive.

Throughout the valley, Sheogorath is doing what he does best: causing chaos. Blanketing the ground like snow are thousands upon thousands of Mark spells, placed by the madgod during Heyvkahsil's attacks. Now Sheogorath teleports from one to the next, crossing hundreds of feet in the blink of an eye and sowing carnage in his wake.

Blink. He teleports into a cluster of troops, eyes set on the Markynaz directing them. The grand duke has enough time to turn his head towards this new threat before Sheogorath's spear punches through his skull, popping out an eye and driving brains out through his teeth. The madgod drops a sphere of frost and blinks away before the others are riddled with shards of exploding ice.

Blink. He reappears alongside a hulking Daedroth, ramming his spear into the crocodilian beast's gut. The monster howls and lashes out blindly, but only strikes its own allies as the madgod vanishes yet again.

Blink. He brings his weapon upward in a cleaving arc that severs limbs and splits armour like paper.

Blink. He spins and delivers a full-arched swing, catching an Auroran commander in the chest with the spear's blunt end. The golden-clad figure's ribs are splintered, and he is sent flying back into his men, the impact bowling over the entire group.

And so it goes. The madgod travels across the valley with reckless abandon, pausing only to kill whatever is in range when he appears. He slaughters platoons, decimates brigades, striking wildly and lethally.

As he kills, he is reminded of a childhood, centuries in the past. As a youth in the mountain city of Chorrol, he and other children would play at war. They would race wildly through the streets with no tactics or plans, using sticks and snowballs as weapons and spells.

Sheogorath acts the same now, but instead of bruised skin and soaked clothing, the bodies he leaves behind are shredded beyond recognition.

The Daedra are scattering all throughout the region, their fright of the god-spear and the demon wielding it spurring them to panic. Sheogorath follows, choosing and killing at his leisure as a farmer picks ripened fruit.

It is still not enough. More Daedra pour through the Oblivion Gates and the scattered pockets of resistance gradually form into a semblance of order. The commanders force their lesser brethren forward, and the legions advance. Sheogorath strikes all the more furiously, but finds himself unable to push the Daedra out of the salient they have created. Inwardly, he urges Heyvkahsil to hurry.

Luckily, he does not have long to wait. The veil of fire in the leftmost gate begins to contract into a brilliant orb of flame. The ball shudders and begins to pulse, sending out a trio of shockwaves that batter the spires and arch of the gate to pieces.

As the rubble thunders to the ground, the orb gives one last tremor, and Heyvkahsil's body is expelled from the collapsing portal. The dragon crashes into one of Jyggalag's crystal obelisks and lies still. The ball of flame erupts into a pillar of fire several meters wide, stabbing into the sky before growing thin and finally dissipating.

The momentum of the battle shifts. Angered at the destruction of the gate, the assorted Daedra loose a massed yell, double back, and stream towards the motionless dragon. Sheogorath knows their thoughts. Furious at the losses they have suffered, the Dremora are anxious, desperate to inflict damage in return. In Heyvkahsil, they see something vulnerable. Something to kill.

Sheogorath meets them less than ten feet from the dragon's body. The madgod's form is shrouded in divine light, and the air around him swirls with dirt, debris, bits of blood and armour.

"**NOBODY TOUCHES MY DRAGON,"** he roars, the amplified shout throwing the crowd off-balance. He charges before they can recover; the Spear of Bitter Mercy slashing back and forth in great horizontal arcs. Blood literally boils in the air as Sheogorath tears his way through like a man shoveling snow.

But the path he carves is a narrow one, and Dremora stream past him on either side. Cursing, the madgod teleports back in a serpentine pattern, cutting down any that approach.

"**Heyvkahsil! Wake up and get off your scaly rump," **he shouts desperately. **"You still have two gates to go!"**

The dragon stirs. Heyvkahsil's eyes open; he notices the tide of bodies that approach. Scrambling to his feet, he gives Sheogorath a brief word of encouragement before taking wing once again.

Now surrounded, Sheogorath teleports away before the crowd of Daedra can overwhelm him. No longer forced into a defensive role, he resumes his bloody work, failing to notice the cracked obelisk where Heyvkahsil lay, or the fragments of crystal lodged between the dragon's scales.

* * *

><p>.<p>

It was no easier the second time. He struck the planar boundary, and the portal flowed and wrapped around his body like a membrane of fire. For the shortest of moments there was a terrible disorientation, as if balance and equilibrium had ceased to exist.

The feeling passed as his nostrils filled with the stench of brimstone, excrement, rotting flesh, and a thousand other things too horrible to be described. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes.

Stretched out before him was a hellish wasteland, barren and inhospitable. The torn sky was a quagmire of light and motion. The black, swollen clouds piled atop one another, sometimes breaking apart to reveal the dull red glow of something too alien to be called a sun. Great chains of lightning arced from one horizon to the next, each bolt wider than rivers and longer than mountain ranges. The ground below was a nightmarish labyrinth of ruined buildings and cold rock half-submerged in necrotic sludge.

Heyvkahsil drew in a breath, and the foul air burned at his throat and lungs. He strained to keep aloft, the plane's gravity making it feel as though he carried another dragon on his back. He flew onward, his eyes searching for a tower that might sustain the gate. It was difficult to concentrate. The sheer, unnatural wrongness of this world was enough to nearly throw him into a panic.

"_And just think; were it not for luck, you and your kind might have been trapped in this abyss until the end of time."_

The voice caught him by surprise, and he reflexively swung his head around and loosed a stream of fire behind him.

"_Is that your idea of a greeting,"_the voice asked. _"And I always thought you to be a well-mannered beast."_

Heyvkahsil snarled. "Who are you? Reveal yourself!"

The voice turned hard. _"Giving me orders? You of all people should know better than that, my good and faithful servant…"_

A chill ran up the dragon's spine, his memories placing the voice to its owner. "Jyggalag," he whispered.

"_Ah, so you do remember. It is pleasing to know I have not been forgotten, even by traitors."_

Jyggalag sounded pleased, like a man whose dog had finally learned a difficult trick. Heyvkahsil, on the other hand, was terrified. He had no idea when, or from where Jyggalag had come, but his mere presence was a threat all its own. There was no way Sheogorath or the Isles could withstand the combined ire of two Daedric Princes.

He needed to choose his words carefully, and pray that the god of order was in an agreeable mood. "An honor to speak with you again, Lord Jyggalag. But could you not have waited for a more opportune time to seek me out? As you can see, I've managed to get myself rather lost."

There was a low rumble that Heyvkahsil mistook for thunder; then he realized it was the unseen god laughing. _"Don't play coy with me, Haskill. I know quite well how you came to be in this place, and what goal drives you. I beheld the threat facing the Isles, and heard firsthand Sheogorath's plan to counter it."_

A sense of despair washed over him. Jyggalag knew. Had he somehow watched and waited through the centuries, looking for a convenient time to take back his former realm?

"When did you return," he finally asked.

The response was smug, mocking. _"I never left."_

Silence followed. Heyvkahsil flew on, his eyes searching desperately for the tower. He knew what the Daedra expected him to ask, heard the words in his mind but refused to voice them. These might be his last moments, and if so, then he needed to close the second gate, if only to better the odds for Sheogorath when Jyggalag came for him.

When he could no longer bear the ominous quiet, he asked, "Why have you revealed yourself?"

A soft, amused chuckle. _"I have come to offer my aid. To assist Sheogorath as he once did me on the eve of the final Greymarch."_

The physical world seemed to fade out as Heyvkahsil fought the panic rising in his chest. Jyggalag wanted to assist Sheogorath? Assist the very one who usurped his throne and cast him out of his realm? Ludicrous! Why would he choose to do such a thing?

Perhaps this was all a ploy? Some act of revenge that would deceive and cut down Sheogorath in his moment of triumph?

He shook his head. No, Jyggalag was not the type to rely on trickery. Whether in matters of state or war, the prince of order was as subtle and straightforward as a battering ram. He would never hide his intentions behind lies or falsity.

So then, was he serious in his offer? That possibility was scarcely more reassuring. What conditions would his help entail? What would he demand in return?

Heyvkahsil knew he had to choose his words carefully. "A generous offer. But if you have observed what you claim, then you know that Sheogorath himself holds the invaders at bay, and only one gate will remain once this falls. Forgive me, your grace, but I fear your assistance will not be needed."

That deep, rumbling laugh echoed in his ears. _"It is indeed a noble plan, but it is doomed to fail. Sheogorath believes he can deal with this as he did with the Oblivion Crisis in years past. That the invasion is as frail and contained as a lesion upon the skin, a cyst he can cut away and sterilize."_

"What else can we do," Heyvkahsil demanded.

"_Soldiers can be killed. Invasions can be thwarted. But a Daedric Prince is not so easily defeated. You must carve deeper, to the very root of the infection. Cut it out at the source, then cauterize it, so that every trace is burned away. Destroy him entirely."_

The dragon could not keep from snorting in derision. "Impossible."

"_Is it? Lorkhan proved that even the gods can die. Why should we Daedra be any different?"_

The implications of those words made his head spin. "If such a thing is possible… if you know how to accomplish it… why contact me at all? Why wait so long and then offer to help us, when you could simply have acted long before?"

"_Does it matter? You need only know that my assistance has been offered, and that it will save your realm."_

"That is not enough," the dragon protested. "If I am to agree to this alliance, behind Sheogorath's back, no less, I will not do so in ignorance. You will tell me how you gained this knowledge, why you are choosing to help us, and what you stand to gain in the end!"

There was no response, and Heyvkahsil wondered if he had pushed too far. Ahead of him, a great spire of basalt and iron loomed over the ruined earth. He could make out the flickering light from the tallest windows, and was relieved to have reached his goal.

Something like a sigh passed his ears. _"In the days after my defeat at the hands of the new Sheogorath, I wandered the dark spaces between planes. I sought to regain my strength. The Isles were lost to me, and so I wished to craft a new home of my own design."_

"_But my power was spent. Too much wasted on the invasion, too little siphoned back. I no longer had the strength to shape the Aurbis, to stabilize it, to tame it. And I did not wish to remain bodiless in that darkness, where unknown shapes groped and slithered. So I returned to the comfort of the old spaces, to my obelisks and crystals."_

Heyvkahsil climbed higher, wings beating the still air as he circled the tower. He knew the darkness Jyggalag described, and the fear of being watched by formless terrors in the black. At the same time, he realized why Jyggalag had approached him. With no wellspring for his powers, the god of order was next to powerless. Even if they somehow needed him to win this battle, he needed them all the more.

"_But when I returned,"_ Jyggalag continued, _"I soon realized that I had been followed, like a wounded fawn with a wolf lapping at the blood it trails. I returned to the crystal only to find myself trapped, encircled by a seething mass of eyes and tendrils. The demon of knowledge, Hermaeus Mora…"_

"_He spoke to me of a terrible event in the future, one that would spell doom for the whole of Mundus, Oblivion and Aetherius alike. The tides of Fate had revealed that a Daedric Prince would escape to worlds beyond our own, that he would rise in power and one day return to conquer and destroy his brethren. This war would upset the balance between Aedra and Daedra, and that instability would destroy all three of our worlds. But Mora did not know the identity of the Prince, nor did he know what events would precede this apocalypse. And so he came to me. He came for Dyus."_

Heyvkahsil remembered that name. Jyggalag's chamberlain, the keeper of his once great library. It was said that the man knew of every event through history, that he could predict the actions taken by every being, mortal or god, and so predict the future without fail.

"_Mora had long sought to add my library to his own, but now that desire had grown into a necessity. With Dyus' knowledge, he could determine the Prince's identity and put a stop to his designs. So he made me an offer: surrender my library, and he would give me what I so desired."_

"A plane of your own," Heyvkahsil guessed.

He felt Jyggalag smile in his mind. _"Better. The secret to permanently killing another Daedra and taking their realm for my own."_

He came at last to the top of the tower. With Jyggalag's troubling, even frightening words fresh in his mind, Heyvkahsil drew back his head and inhaled.

"Fus… RO DAH!"

The side of the tower dented inwards, a series of cracks appearing in the dark stone. Heyvkahsil waited for a moment, then shouted again. A second dent formed beside the first. The cracks grew larger.

"Dangerous knowledge to be given," he said. "Why trust you with such a secret? For all he knew, you could be the destroyer he prophesized."

"_He considered that," _Jyggalag rumbled. _"And he planned to end me then and there, if Dyus' predictions revealed me as such. Obviously, it did not. And so he gifted me with this most terrible of secrets, provided I use it to end the threat to our worlds."_

"Why would he share it at all," Heyvkahsil had to ask. "Could he not have acted on his own?"

Jyggalag scoffed. _"Don't be a fool, Haskill. If it were so easy to slay a Daedric Prince, we would have destroyed ourselves long ago!"_

"_No, Mora would not have acted, nor would any of the others," _he continued. _"You see, the act of destroying another lord is a slow and dangerous process. While performing it, the Daedra must focus the whole of his being. He must, in essence, abandon his realm."_

"And what is so hazardous about that? Sheogorath is often summoned to the mortal plane. Princes visit one another frequently. How would this be any different?"

"_Indeed, you are foolish."_

Heyvkahsil grit his teeth and continued throwing shouts at the tower. The material buckled and cracked.

"_A storm approaches from the sea, and the wise man locks his door, bars his windows, strengthens his walls. He departs in confidence, knowing that his home is secure, protected from all that approaches. But what if his presence, his power, is what sustains the house? What if nails will rust and beams will rot and supports falter the longer he remains away?"_

Heyhkahsil was beginning to understand. No matter their size or glory or grandeur, each sphere was still tied to the Prince who ruled it. That meant…

"It becomes vulnerable without them! The time and strain of fully conquering another realm forces them to draw power away from their own," he ventured.

Jyggalag chuckled. _"Hmm, perhaps there is hope for you after all. You are correct. Hermaeus Mora could indeed destroy this realm, but his own would be left helpless in the meantime. And then, to weaken Mora and strengthen himself, what would stop Malacath from obliterating Mora's realm? And what would stop Nocturnal from destroying Malacath? Or Meridia destroying her?"_

It made sense. Though one Prince might possibly eliminate another, the certainty of their own destruction was enough to stay their hands. It was that constant fear that kept Oblivion from tearing itself apart in the throes of war.

Something still troubled him, and he ceased his attack on the tower.

"But wait! What of this realm? If what he said to Sheogorath was true, he intends to abandon it in his pursuit of the worlds beyond Mundus! Surely he knows that he risks its destruction?"

"_Very perceptive, Haskill. Yes, I have no doubt that he knows the risks. But through his actions this day, it seems that he hopes to deceive his fellow Daedra. When this invasion fails, it will appear that he has secluded himself here, rebuilding his strength and foregoing contact with the other worlds."_

"_He assumes that this deception will allay any suspicion, and that those who realize the truth will still be held back by the fear of reprisal. He is correct on both counts. But none of them realize that I am waiting to strike. I, who currently has no home to lose and can act with impunity."_

The wall was nearly broken. Heyvkahsil flew closer and slammed both legs into the stone. He smashed through the broken stone, and once again found himself in a large, domed room. The floor below was a ring of volcanic rock surrounding a circle of red, spongy material the same color and consistency as raw flesh. Ramps and stairs circled upward to a suspended metal crucible. Perched within and engulfed in a pillar of fire was the sigil stone, the anchor for the Oblivion Gate.

"_You distrust me, and you are right to do so. But know that despite the defeat and the insult your master handed me, I hold no malice towards him or his realm. In truth, I would prefer not to deal with you at all. Unfortunately, my power is still rooted in the Isles, and I am little more than a ghost elsewhere. Even now, I can only speak through the crystals lodged in your hide. Before I can take control of this world, before I can lend you my aid, I will first require yours."_

Ignoring the words, Heyvkahsil tucked his wings, bent his legs and jumped to one of the perimeter ramps. The rusted metal screeched and bent in protest, and he quickly leapt to the next before it collapsed. When the sigil stone came within reach, he acted without hesitation, lunging forward and snatching the orb up in his jaws. Ripping it from the fire, he crushed it between his teeth.

The room erupted in flames, the walls and floor melting from the intense heat. A strong pulling sensation grew from the broken sigil stone, and Heyvkahsil found himself being sucked into a void of blackness.

The disorientation came and went, and then he was back in the Isles, thrown from the collapsing gate in the few moments before it imploded upon itself.

The air was filled with the sounds of battle. Sheogorath was no longer alone; countless saints and seducers were locked in hand to hand combat with the Dremora. What had once been a single man against innumerable odds was now a few thousand against a few thousand, the intruders being pushed steadily back towards the last standing gate.

Hope kindled in his chest. They had all but won! The only remaining task was to close the gate, and sweep away the last pockets of reinforcements that still charged futilely into the fray.

"_It will not last," _Jyggalag reminded him. _"No matter how many of his troops you destroy, no matter how many times he is forced out of this world, he will find a way to return. He will attack again, and again, until he takes what he desires. And then? Then he will bring about the end of all things."_

"So you say," Heyvkahsil countered. "But what proof is there of the claims you make? I have only your word for assurance, the word of one who was once an enemy of my lord."

Jyggalag's voice was flat and unsympathetic. _"You have my word on nothing. I do not give my word to traitors and slaves of madness. But I have spoken the truth."_

"Very well, but suppose I give you the aid you require, that I help you tear this world down and remake it in your image. What then? What proof have I that you will not turn your sights once again on the Isles, mind set on revenge?"

"_You have none. But tell me, which is preferable to you? A potential ally, who may or may not prove trustworthy in the future, or a known enemy who currently seeks your destruction?"_

The dragon staggered, laughing softly. Was this what it meant to be a hero? Gambling with the lives of entire worlds, making alliances not out of friendship but necessity, praying that whatever sacrifices were made and consequences arose would be somehow worth avoiding their alternative? If so, he wanted no part of it. Let other beings, stronger beings make those choices, live with those consequences.

But no, he could not simply wash his claws of this. Sheogorath bade him to help end the threat to the Isles. If this agreement could accomplish that, then he was duty bound to see it through.

"What must I do," he asked heavily.

"_The obelisk you struck upon closing the first gate. Break off a section of the crystal, carry it with you, and scatter its pieces when you arrive. From there, I will see to the rest."_

There was a flash of light, and Sheogorath stood beside him. The madgod's body was spattered with blood, his eyes bright and his mouth set in a smile.

"**Heyvkahsil, you magnificent lizard, you've done it! Look at them, running about like rats deserting a sinking ship! Or cats shipping a deserted sink! Or bats sinking a ship full of desserts!"**

Placing a hand on the dragon's neck, Sheogorath motioned for him to stand. **"Well, come on now! Can't be leaving a job half-finished! Pop that blister! Lance that boil!"**

Heyvkahsil nodded, head down and unable to meet the madgod's eyes as he turned back to the fight. Rising, he turned and kicked out at the crystal obelisk, smashing it to pieces. Snatching up the largest chunk in his talons, he dove into the final gate.

Setting out for the tower, he opened his claws, sending shards of crystal tumbling to the ground. Where each landed, it glowed and sank beneath the murk. As their mental link vanished, he could hear the rumble of Jyggalag's laughter fading in his ears.

Heyvkahsil prayed that he had made the right choice.

* * *

><p>.<p>

He wasn't exactly sure how he'd expected Celestia to react. In his personal opinion, it was certainly cause for alarm, and while he didn't hope for her to fly into a panic, he was expecting at least a small measure of concern.

Instead, the princess merely took another slow sip of tea, head cocked to the side as though she had been asked to comment upon the weather.

"I've considered that possibility," she finally said. "And decided that it is not something with which we need concern ourselves."

"Not something we need…" he sputtered in outrage. The Element Bearers were the entire focus of Celestia's plan! Supposedly, they were the ONLY ones capable of defeating Nightmare Moon. Anything that even remotely pertained to them should be their top priority!

She nodded. "Tell me, do you recall when Sweet Grass attempted to track down the Royal Guard who fought alongside my sister?"

He nodded back, already knowing where this question would lead.

"And what did he find?"

"Nothing," Cascade said with a sigh. "All the trails went cold at some point or another. They changed their names, relocated constantly, even created false histories. All we know is that they scattered throughout Equestria shortly after the battle, and then disappeared."

"I fear it would be much the same if we attempted to trace the Elements back to that point," Celestia admitted. "We have no way of knowing for sure if my sister's magic lingers within them. As such, it won't do us any good to ponder what may or may not happen. We can only wait and see what does happen."

Despite Celestia's assurance, Cascade could not bring himself to so easily accept the situation. In fact, he was only irritated further at how frivolous and amusing she seemed to find the topic.

"Even if we can't predict whether it WILL happen, surely we can prepare for it," he insisted. "Even if we cannot make the whole of our troops immune, surely there is some spell or artifact that can protect the six of them!"

She smiled. "I've considered that as well."

Cascade tapped a hoof against the steel rim of the flask. If she said that one more time, he would seriously ponder throwing this right at her head.

The alicorn noticed his anger, and her smile faded. "Forgive me if I've upset you, Cascade, but please, give me some credit. I know the Elements, I know my sister, and I am quite familiar with the capabilities of both. Your concerns are valid ones, but I assure you, I am quite prepared to deal with them."

He knew that he was losing his cool; that the alcohol in his blood was making him irrational, but he could not stop himself from slamming a hoof into the floor and shaking it angrily.

"Then explain to me! I am not your damned student anymore, so stop acting like this is some problem I have to work through," he growled. "Instead of just brushing aside my concerns, how about you bucking address them!?"

Celestia pulled back as though she'd been slapped, and Cascade's heart ached as he saw the hurt in her violet eyes. Head drooping in regret, he sank back onto the cushion, all the day's fatigue creeping back into his muscles.

"I… please, forgive my behavior, princess," he said. "My actions, my words, all of it inexcusable."

"No, forgive me. You are right; it was cruel of me to simply dismiss your fears, treating you like some foal cowering from a thunderstorm, when we both know the danger is far more real."

She looked down and sighed. "Sometimes I forget that my subjects have not known of and expected Nightmare Moon's return as I have. That they see her not as the mare she once was, but as the horror story of their foalhoods, a dark and wicked being they feared might lurk under the beds or outside their windows. And because of that fear, they feel that defying her is useless, that her return can only bring doom and destruction."

Cascade remained silent. He didn't know what to say, or if there was anything he COULD say. It was true. Even he, who had grown up hearing Celestia's tales of the lost Princess Luna, had difficulty imagining such a kind and noble ruler compared to the black-coated demon of campfire stories. And even with all their preparations, he still doubted whether or not they could survive her return.

She looked back at him, and her smile was as brilliant as the sun. "But I know the truth. Not only can Nightmare Moon be stopped, she WILL be. Not only can the Elements save Luna, they WILL. Please, Cascade, believe in them, as I do. Trust in your princess."

A part of him wanted to argue, to say that she was still asking him to put his trust in her blindly, though all the evidence and the odds were against them. But the confidence, the surety she exuded was inspiring, and he realized that yes, he did believe.

He was trying to muster up a half-decent response. After all, that had been a hell of a pep-talk. But before he could speak, Celestia started, flinching to the side as if something had tickled her stomach. Confused, the unicorn watched as she carefully peered beneath her outstretched wing. The sadness vanished from her smile, and she looked back at him, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

"And, of course, I should also apologize for treating you like a schoolcolt rather than a grown stallion. That mistake, however, is more the fault of recent events. You see, earlier today I found myself forced to act as a teacher once again."

Cascade paused when he caught the implication of her words. A look of glee came over his face as he forgot about the day's mishaps, forgot about Nightmare Moon, forgot about everything but the filly he had seen off that morning.

"She passed," he asked excitedly. "My little Twilight passed the exam?"

Celestia smiled proudly. "With flying colors."

"HAH! THAT'S MY GIRL," Cascade whooped, tossing the flask high into the air. It stuck the ceiling with a loud clang, and his celebration was suddenly interrupted with a loud and high-pitched shriek.

More than a bit surprised, the one-eyed unicorn jumped out of his seat, looking around wildly for the source of the wailing.

Celestia tsked at him in exasperation. "Now look who you've woken up," she chided, though her tone was far too happy to have any real bite.

Cascade's eye widened as the princess lifted her wing and revealed a fussing baby dragon. Scooping him up in her forelegs, she cradled him against her chest and whispered soothingly.

He was frozen still, staring blankly at the infant as his mind struggled to catch up.

_cascade…_

Her egg had hatched? But when? And how?

"_Cascade?"_

What had… how much had he missed today?!

"Cascade!"

He snapped out of his thoughts, realizing that Celestia had been calling his name for some time. His eyes lifted from the dragon to the cheerfully smiling alicorn.

"It looks as if he's hungry," she said. "Would you mind giving me a minute while I feed him?"

"Of course, your majesty." He automatically looked around for any sign of the aforementioned meal. "Will you need any help with…"

His words trailed off when he noticed Celestia turning onto her side, pulling the dragon down towards her stomach. His mind connected the dots, and he let out a strangled 'erk' before spinning around.

He busied himself with staring a hole through the bedroom wall, his mind attempting to block out the sounds of the nursing infant. In bewilderment, he wondered why the princess hadn't dismissed him from the room, or at least asked him to avert his eyes!

More than likely, it was another example of Celestia's bizarre naivety regarding matters of parenthood. All that study, all those years of research, and apparently she'd never gotten around to learning proper nursing etiquette! Now he just had to figure out how to get out of there without coming across like a voyeuristic jackass.

Clearing his throat, he tried to think of an excuse. Unfortunately, his mouth had begun moving before his brain could catch up.

"Why feed him that way? And how does that even work," he blurted out, immediately regretting the question.

"I'm sure you're aware of HOW it works," Celestia said with a laugh, oblivious to her friend's discomfort. "As for why, at his age he can only process liquids, or crushed gemstones that register below a 2.5 on the Mohs scale. With none of those readily available, this was my only option."

"Ah," Cascade responded stupidly, hoping that Celestia wouldn't explain further.

No such luck. "And if you're worried about cross-species complications, every book on pony-raised dragons stated that this method is perfectly safe, as dragons possess the most robust and versatile digestive system of any creature. Granted, I did have to use a spell to alter some of the vital nutrients so that the milk provided-"

That was it; he couldn't take anymore. Clambering to his hooves, Cascade made a beeline for the door, his uncoordinated limbs fighting for balance.

"General," he heard Celestia ask in concern. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine," he called over his shoulder, making sure that it was his blind eye that faced her. "I'm just… feeling a tad under the weather! Too much excitement for these old bones, you know?"

"More like you hit the bottle so hard that it wound up hitting back," she said amusedly.

"Guilty as charged," he agreed, magically flinging the door open. "Suppose I can't hold my liquor as well as before. In any case, I think it best if I retire for the evening, otherwise I'll likely end up passing out on your floor."

"Are you certain? I'd hoped to speak with you more about the results of Twilight's exam." The disappointment in her voice and his own curiosity nearly changed his mind.

"I'm sure," he said. "I think I've had all the excitement I can stand for one night. But I promise to be back first thing in the morning. Hopefully we can speak then?"

There was a displeased mewl as the dragon was set back on the bed, and Celestia walked up beside him. "Very well, though 'first thing' might be a bit too early considering your… condition. Speaking of which, I don't feel comfortable with you wandering home in such a state. I think it best if you take one of the castle suites for the evening."

At this point, he would've agreed to anything if it meant escaping the awkwardness of the situation. Promising Celestia that he would do as she said, he quickly wished her a good night, congratulated her again on the birth of her son, and all but lunged out of the room.

Once alone and in relative safety, he cast a glance back at the closed door and sighed. That blasted mare… how was it that without even meaning to, she could so easily reduce him from a battle-hardened stallion into an embarrassed wreck?

And now, here he was. Exhausted, halfway drunk, completely embarrassed, and faced with yet another hike back through the castle.

He was getting too old for this shit.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Sheogorath is still killing everything in sight. But now, with the arrival of his armies, the disorganized intruders fall into a confused retreat. This is not what their lord had promised. He spoke of an unguarded world, its defenders miles away, its fertile fields and bustling cities ripe for the plunder.

Now, reeling and decimated by Sheogorath's assaults, there is no chance of a counterattack. Instead, the invaders trade ground for time. The Clannfear and Daedroths and Atronachs and all the lesser Daedra rush forward and throw themselves onto the blades of the Saints and Seducers, if only to try and slow their advance.

The Dremora fall back and burn the ground as they go, destroying Sheogorath's Mark spells and hindering his armies in their pursuit. Coming to the remaining Oblivion Gate, they prepare for a last stand.

With Sheogorath leading the charge, the Mazken and Aureals surge ahead like an armour-clad tsunami. Fighters on both sides scream in pain and battle frenzy. Weapons splinter, shields are rent. The madgod smashes through the wall of spearpoints, swords and shields, and his armies stream through after him.

The Dremora fall back even further, coming within feet of the Oblivion Gate. The reinforcements that continue to stream from the portal are too few and too disorganized to turn the tide. The ferocity of the battle reaches a fever pitch. Be they men, mer, or Daedra, warriors always fight at their fiercest and most desperate when their backs are to the wall. It holds true this day; the Dremora fight, and die, like cornered rats.

As the armies clash, the invaders launch their final strike. Following a trio of Storm Atronachs, a platoon of Dremora tightens into formation and charges. Thunder booms, and bolts of blue energy split the earth as the Atronachs are cut down. The Daedric women nearest the blast are scattered in the explosion of lightning and flying bodies. Armour melts, hair and flesh burst into flames, and the two score Dremora race through the resulting gap.

Angry shouts ripple through Sheogorath's forces, Saints and Seducers alike turning about to pursue the fleeing Dremora. Sheogorath blocks their way, spear blazing, and urges them back into the fray.

"**Push them back,"**he roars. **"Don't let that rabble gain another inch until Heyvkahsil brings down the gate! Push them back into their abyss, and gut all who stand their ground! Let me run those cowards down! I'll break their spines and nail their heads to the Gates of Madness!"**

Spurred on by the cheers of his armies, Sheogorath readies his spear and gives chase.

The Dremora have already escaped the Fringe, turning north and fleeing up the Laughing Coast into Mania. Stumbling across unfamiliar terrain, each one burdened with more than sixty pounds of clumsy armour, they should have been easy prey to catch. They are not.

The group turns east and plunges into the forest. The Dremora bringing up the rear glances over its shoulder, sees Sheogorath in mid-lunge, and has barely enough time to shout a warning. Sheogorath cleaves it from shoulder to hip without breaking stride.

Strangely, the platoon does not scatter, does not attempt to hide or throw him off their trail. Instead, they string out in a ragged line and continue running. Whenever Sheogorath closes the distance, the rearmost soldier halts and turns to fight. It is a hopeless delaying tactic, but it still buys the others a few precious seconds while the madgod slays each comrade.

In this manner they move further east, giving up lives for miles. Sheogorath follows, killing ten, then twenty, thirty, until only three remain.

He comes up behind the straggler and drives his spear into and through its torso. The Dremora stumbles, and Sheogorath is forced to carry it along, holding the impaled body up like a pennant fixed to his weapon.

The weight slows him, and he sees the last two pulling away. The muscles in his arms straining, he swings his weapon in a fast, high arc, flinging the body back and over his shoulder.

No longer encumbered, Sheogorath shifts his grip to one hand and looses a spray of lightning from the other. The dozen separate bolts strike at once, throwing the Dremora forwards like dust kicked up by the wind. It hits the ground several feet ahead of its companion, blood streaming through blackened holes in its riddled body.

Realizing that its time has come, the final Dremora puts on a burst of speed and changes direction.

Tired of this game of chase, Sheogorath twirls the Spear of Bitter Mercy into a throwing position, takes aim, and hurls it after the last soldier. It strikes true, catching the Dremora directly between the shoulder blades. The Dremora is knocked off his feet, hitting the ground and somersaulting for several meters, coming to a stop facedown in the dust.

Sheogorath sets a foot atop the corpse and pulls the spear free. With the last of his quarry dead, he takes the time to examine his surroundings. He finds it strange that they fled to here of all places. It is a nondescript hill, far removed from any settlements or fortifications. There is nothing, and no one for miles.

The answer comes to him, and Sheogorath throws back his head and laughs. **"Well played," **he says.

The Daedra hits him then, charging out from a shadowed copse of trees to his left. Its leaping tackle catches him in the side, spinning the madgod around and sending him sprawling to the ground. A clawed hand reaches for his face, and talons dig into his scalp.

The Daedra begins to run, hunched over and loping on three limbs like an animal. Its right hand keeps a vice-grip on the madgod's head, dragging him along while pushing down hard enough for his body to dig a furrow in the dirt.

Sheogorath struggles to breath with the Daedra's hand pressed against his face. His clothes are sliced to ribbons as he is dragged along. His head is rubbed raw, his bare back and shoulders become slick with blood as the skin is chafed away by rocks.

The Spear of Bitter Mercy is still firmly in his grasp. Sheogorath inches his hand down the shaft, then grips tight and swings it around. The blunt end strikes its leg just below the knee. The Daedra stumbles and loses its grip. Sheogorath skids to a halt as it tumbles further. Both princes stagger to their feet.

Sheogorath stands ready, grinning fiercely even as the nerves in his flayed back shriek from agony. He ignores the pain and waits for the wounds to heal.

"**Masterfully done,"** he announces to the Daedra. **"You tricked me into a trailing a track of tantalizing tidbits that traversed into a terrifying and tumultuous trap! Bravo!"**

He steps forward, spear at the ready**. "But just like all your other schemes, it gains you nothing," **he taunts.** "You've lost; you know that, don't you? Your armies are routed, your gates destroyed, and your only hope now is to run back to your realm before my spear meets your skull!"**

The Daedra laughs, a vile chortling that immediately sets the madgod on edge. "So I have lost, you say? Foolish words from a foolish man!" It raises an arm, one finger pointing at his breast. "If I am defeated, why then do I stand here unharmed and ready for battle, while Sheogorath leans on his spear, gasping for breath and wincing as the breeze stings at his wounds?"

Sheogorath gasps; one hand snakes around to gingerly probe at his back. The flesh is still raw and oozing blood. He wills the injuries to heal, mentally drawing power from the Font of Madness beneath his palace. All he receives is a stabbing pain in his head, and the nimbus of light around his body flickers and fades. Clutching his temples, he glares at the Daedra.

"What did you do!?"

"I turned your own idiocy against you," it says. "Admittedly, I despaired when you buried me beneath the stones of your castle. I knew that I could not escape in time to stop you from destroying my armies. It galled me so, to think that I had been outwitted, bested by a transcended piece of mortal trash!"

It laughs again, relishing in his distress. "But then I felt something. A pulling sensation from far beneath the ground. I recognized it as your magic! So instead of digging up and out of the rubble, I searched deeper. And what I found was the wellspring from which you drew your strength."

"And so I dammed the spring and cut off the source of your power. I knew this advantage would only last a short time, so I called out to my servants and bid them lure you to me. And now… here you stand. As you were before, as you always should have been, a weak and frail mortal, fit only to die by my hand."

Sheogorath draws in a long, shuddering breath. He meets the Daedra's eyes, and a bitter smile crosses his lips. "Perhaps, but there is one thing you've forgotten," he says softly.

The Daedra sneers. "Oh? And what is that, _human_," it asks, the last word dripping sarcasm.

Sheogorath leaps at it and thrusts with his spear. "I'M NOT DEAD YET!"

The Daedra sidesteps the thrust and bats the spear aside. Its hand stabs forward with fingers spread, and Sheogorath throws himself to the right. He rolls on his shoulder, ignoring the burning ache from his wounds, and stabs at the Daedra's stomach. It leaps back a second too late, and the flesh at its hip smolders and blackens as the spear stabs deep.

Fighting through the pain, Sheogorath rushes after it. He swings once, twice, three times in succession, bringing the spear around in wide sweeping arcs. The Daedra ducks under the first swing, leans back and away from the second. The third carves across its chest and shoulders, and the air fills with the stench of burning meat as the spear sears and cauterizes its flesh.

The Daedra roars and lunges before Sheogorath can complete another swing. Its hands lash out and seize the Spear of Bitter Mercy, halting the madgod's attack. Sheogorath does not release his grip, and the two stagger and fight for control of the spear, the Daedra kicking and snapping while he tries to evade its claws. Sheogorath knows he is running out of time. His head is spinning from the loss of blood, and without his power, the Daeda is far stronger than he.

He gives a sudden pull with his left arm while shoving hard with his right. The blunt end of the spear cracks against the Daedra's skull, and it reels back in pain. Taking advantage of its momentary disorientation, Sheogorath repeats the maneuver, and the Daedra nearly topples over. Only its grip on the spear keeps it standing.

Before he can strike again, the Daedra turns his own strategy against him. The spear's direction is reversed, and this time the razor-edged blade catches him in the thigh. Sheogorath screams in pain as the spear burns through muscle and skin, and his left hand releases the shaft to try and pull the blade loose.

It proves to be a fatal mistake. The Daedra pushes the spear against Sheogorath's chest and darts in, its jaws biting down on his forearm. Teeth pierce through flesh and grind against bone, and then the Daedra gives a powerful snap. Blood fountains into the air as Sheogorath's hand is ripped away. His vision blurs in the red haze of agony, Sheogorath releases the spear and reflexively clamps a hand over the bloody stump that was once his wrist.

Brandishing the spear, the Daedra steps back and swings the weapon in a fast uppercut. The spear's butt catches Sheogorath in the chin, lifting him into the air and flinging him onto his back. Stepping over the madgod's body, the Daedra holds the spear in a two-handed grip and raises it high over its head. With a bellow of triumph, it drives the spear into Sheogorath's chest, shattering bone and running the blade through and out until it pierces several inches into the ground beneath him.

Sheogorath vomits blood and collapses.

The Daedra staggers back, laughing wearily as its wounds knit closed. "I am impressed, mortal," it admits, amusement and something like respect in its voice. "Few have possessed the courage to defy me as you have done today. Fewer still have elected to fight when death and defeat are certain. And only you have fought me to a draw, forced me to rely on trickery rather than my own strength. Truly, it is a feat worthy of praise."

It drops to its knees and crawls up Sheogorath's body, one hand gripping his throat while the other hovers over his face. "Even so, it is all in vain. You have failed, as we both knew you would. Now, there is nothing left but to accept the inevitable-"

Sheogorath roars in anger and defiance, throwing up his remaining hand and shoving it against the Daedra's head. Calling on the last traces of his power, he fires an orb of white-hot flame. The fireball ignites the Daedra's face, causing it to fall backwards, shrieking and clawing at its melting flesh. Knowing that this is his last chance, Sheogorath grasps the spear with his slick, bloody hand and tries to wrench it out of his body.

He pulls and tugs, but the weapon refuses to budge. Clenching his teeth, he gives one hard yank. Then he sees the clawed hand just inches above his own.

The Daedra is crouched over him, half of its face burned away. Its mouth twists in hate. Holding the spear fast, it brings its other hand around and slams the palm-edge against the spear's shaft. The Spear of Bitter Mercy splinters, then snaps in two. Streams of pure energy blaze out from the broken handle and blast craters into the rock around them.

The Daedra swings the broken end of the spear in a savage backhand. It strikes Sheogorath in the face, shattering his jaw and knocking out several teeth. He is slammed back to the ground, and makes no effort to rise. Unwilling to take chances, the Daedra stabs the jagged handle into Sheogorath's wrist, impaling it between the radius and ulna.

Pinned and helpless, Sheogorath can do nothing as the Daedra again grips his throat and leans close.

"Now," it snarls, all mirth gone from its voice. "Give me what I want!"

It raises a finger, the claw sharp and needle-thin. Holding Sheogorath's head still, it drives the claw through the madgod's eye and deep into his brain. Magical energy ripples between them, and Sheogorath's body goes rigid as the Daedra's mind forcibly merges with his own. A bitter, hemlock chill spreads through his body as his thoughts and memories are examined and taken.

After what seems like hours, the Daedra pulls the talon free of his eye, allowing his head to fall weakly back to the ground. Its eyes flutter closed, mouth moving silently as it processes the barrage of information. Sheogorath's meeting with Akatosh, his transformation of Alduin, and the location of the world he fought to keep hidden.

Glaring out of his remaining eye, Sheogorath chokes back the blood in his throat and says, "…damn you… you… regret… when I… get… back…"

"It will be far too late," the Daedra interrupts. "Alduin is mine, as is the world to which he has fled. I will turn its own people against one another, corrupting and misleading them until in ignorance they bring about their own destruction."

It pulls his head up, its eyes full of murderous glee. "I will see its rulers displaced, its warriors put to the sword, its women and children dragged off to death and slavery, its cities pulled down and broken, its lands burned and the earth salted so that nothing will grow there again."

Sheogorath's vision begins to darken, his breaths gurgle and bubble from the blood in his lungs. He tries to respond, but only strangled groans and arterial blood emerge. The Daedra leans close to his ear.

"And through it all, it will be your name they hear in their grief and their pain. It will be whispered into the ears of the dying, shouted over the wailing of the captives. All will know that their doom came through the folly of Sheogorath. A man too weak to save even himself."

A clawed hand comes to rest on his forehead, while the other gently lifts his chin.

"Fare you well, madgod."

The muscles in the Daedra's arms bulge as it gives a mighty twist.

**CRACK.**

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><p><strong>.<br>**

The day had finally come. A moment that would live forever in the history of Equestria. The coronation of the royal pony sisters.

Two thrones sat waiting in the grand and opulent throne room. On either side, sunlight shone in through a great stained glass window created in the image of Celestia and Luna. Doors opened, and the two alicorns stepped into the room.

The princesses were the very picture of beauty and poise. Celestia was clad in an elegant gown of ivory and gold, while Luna's was the dark blues and violets of an evening sky. Side by side they walked, matching the other's steps until at last they stood before the thrones. Celestia smiled and took in a deep, soothing breath, as if savoring the moment.

"The day has finally come," she said. "Are you ready, little sister?"

Luna said nothing. Concerned, Celestia looked over and saw the younger alicorn's shoulders trembling, her wings twitching nervously.

Celestia rested a hoof on Luna's shoulders. "Don't be afraid. I'm here for you," she soothed. "I'll always look after you."

Not seeming to notice her sister's touch, Luna continued shaking. Celestia noticed that she was whispering frantically.

"Please… please no. I'm sorry… please… don't do this… don't…"

Celestia stepped around Luna to look her in the eyes. She was shocked to see that her younger sister was crying.

"Luna…"

Her words were cut off by a strange noise from above. Looking up, she saw that the stained glass window of Luna had cracked, a long fissure running down the length of the alicorn's body. Then she heard more cracking sounds, and the lone fracture began to spread. The room darkened, sunlight disappearing into a black sky.

Luna looked into her eyes, tears falling from her own. "Tia…"

The window exploded, sending glass flying into the room. Celestia's horn glowed, and a magical shield formed around her. Luna had no protection.

Celestia watched in horror as the shards rained down on her sister. Luna cried out as her dress was sliced to ribbons and her back was split with dozens of ghastly cuts.

As her dress fell to the floor in scraps, Celestia could see that instead of blood, Luna's wounds were dripping with some sort of black, sticky ichor. It ran down her legs, splashing and soaking the pile of fabric on the floor. The pile churned as more liquid seeped into it, and then the fabric was sinking down and out of sight. The black substance continued to flow down Luna's body. She was covered in it; only her neck and head remained untouched. Beneath her, the ichor had formed a pool on the floor… and Luna was beginning to sink into it.

"Tia…" Luna pleaded, "Don't leave me here. I'm… I'm so cold. Please come back for me. I don't want to be alone…"

Celestia's horn lit up with a flash as she tried to telekinetically pull her sister free. But try as she might, her magical aura swirled harmlessly around Luna without managing to grab hold. Foregoing magic, she galloped into the spreading ichor.

The moment her hooves met the liquid, they stuck fast, as though she had stepped in tar. Celestia pulled and tugged, her head thrashing and mane streaming wildly as she tried to free herself. It was no use. She was caught.

Luna had now sunk up to her neck. Her head was tilted back, desperately trying to keep her muzzle above the surface of the pool. Tears streamed down her face as she looked pleadingly at her sister.

"Please come back for me… it's dark… so dark… sister… please…"

Celestia strained harder, pulled until her shoulder muscles wrenched in agony, but at last she broke free! Leaping forward, she reached out both hooves to Luna.

It was too late. Luna screamed her name in the last moments before she was swallowed up by the pool.

"Luna!" Celestia plunged both hooves into the liquid to try and pull her out, but found that the pool was now less than an inch deep. Hysterical, she splashed and struck the liquid until her hooves ached, calling her sister's name until her voice ran hoarse.

When she looked back down, the pool looked different. White pinpoints of light flickered across its surface, and she found herself looking at a star field, with a full moon at its center. As she watched, the silhouette of an alicorn's head appeared, its eye staring up at her in silent accusation.

Celestia fell to her knees, her body wracked with sobs. She whispered apologies to her sister and wished that the pool would swallow her as well. Anything to reunite her with Luna.

Clip.

Clop.

Clip.

Clop.

Clip.

Clop.

Celestia's head shot up. She recognized that sounds: the echoing of hooves against stone. Something was coming. Her eyes scanned the darkened room, but she could see nothing. "Is somepony there," she called. "Please, I need help! My sister-"

Clip.

Clop.

Clip.

Clop.

Clip.

Clop.

The room was still dark, still empty. But gradually another sound joined the approaching hoofsteps. A harsh, pained breathing. The sound one would make when breathing with cracked ribs.

The sounds were coming closer. They were… behind her! She tried to turn, only to find that she was once again stuck fast in the ichor. The steps drew nearer, the breathing louder and heavier.

The hoofsteps stopped. Celestia felt a hot breath wash over her shoulder, followed by a hoarse, croaking voice.

"**Sister…"**

She looked over her shoulder to see Luna standing beside her. But her sister had changed.

Her coat was midnight black, her mane shimmering and coated with frost. Her eyes were slitted and had taken an unblinking, reptilian sheen.

Luna grinned at Celestia's terrified expression, and her mouth opened wide. Celestia could see her jaw lengthening, razor teeth extending from the gums.

Her vision went dark, and she could hear shattering glass as her own window exploded.

She awoke with a scream, bolting upright and gasping for breath. She looked around wildly, relieved to see the familiar sight of her bedroom. Drenched with sweat, still feeling that hot breath on her throat, she tried to calm her racing heart.

'It was only a dream… it was only a dream…"

She sat there for several moments, staring blankly at the wall while the tears fell freely. Memories of the nightmare filled her thoughts. It had been nothing like the actual events that led to her sister's banishment. But the emotions were all too alike. The grief she felt at Luna's fate, the guilt at having failed to prevent it, and the terror of the twisted monster that might return in her sister's place.

She buried her face in her forelegs and continued to weep. She had dreamed of Luna's banishment many times, her return even more. But never like this.

The sound of blankets rustling came from the foot of the bed. Celestia lifted her head, and was surprised to see Spike awake. The baby dragon had managed to crawl almost to the edge, and was propped up as far as his newborn forepaws could put him.

Carefully so as not to startle him, Celestia scooted closer and pulled him against her side, comforted by the warmth of his body against her fur. The dragon gave no reaction to her presence, but continued staring ahead, looking out through the window at something beyond on the horizon.

She followed his gaze, trying to see what had captured his attention. The night was still, and peaceful. But the more she looked, the more she grew uneasy. It was a strange anxiety in the back of her mind, a small and frightened certainty that _something_ was coming.

A sound like a muffled thunderclap rumbled in the distance, and Celestia's stomach gave a nauseous twist. Spike tensed up; she could feel his tiny body shaking against her. She looked down, and in a strange trick of the light, his eyes seemed to flash to another color, and she swore his lips moved as though he was trying to talk.

The nausea increased. Waves of steadily building pressure passed over her, like ripples in a pool when a heavy object is dropped in. She closed her eyes and gasped for breath.

Then the moment passed. Her nausea subsided, and Spike let out a tiny yawn and flopped onto his stomach, snuggling against her side and falling into an easy sleep.

Celestia blinked, feeling as though she was emerging from a trance. What had just happened? She remembered awakening from the nightmare, but then what? Head pounding, she looked back and forth between the window and her son. Had something else happened?

Unable to remember, she settled back into bed, draping the blankets over Spike and herself. Closing her eyes, she let his calm breathing lull her into a dreamless sleep.

But what she did not know was that she was not the only creature to wake screaming that night. All across the world, everyone from ponies to dragons to griffins found their dreams vexed to nightmare.

And though none of them could explain why, they knew deep in their hearts that something was terribly wrong.

They were right.

Far to the west of Equestria, a remote mountain pond shimmered like glass in the moonlight. Though no wind blew, a ripple passed over the surface. The pond's water boiled and bubbled, then turned an inky black. The churning mass of blackness suddenly let out an echoing boom, and the liquid spiraled into a whirlpool leading down into someplace dark and horribly deep. The smell of sulfur burst up and out of the portal, followed by bellows of fear and screams of pain from within.

Trees around the pool began to wither, their leaves crumbling to dust and their branches rotting away. The grass turned grey and brittle before it was carried off by the wind, and the rocks beneath were stained black by the vile liquid that splashed and roiled out of the pond.

Somewhere miles below, a figure climbed out of the lightning-streaked depths. It was something misshapen, something vile, something that had no place in this world. The light of the moon illuminated its shape as it pulled itself free of the steaming pit.

It was like nothing ever seen before. It resembled a dragon, if only in the way it walked upright, but any similarities ended there. Its arms were too long, wrists too powerful, claws too narrow, legs jointed wrong, torso too thick, toes oddly splayed, neck elongated, head misshapen, face monstrous. It moved with a hunched, loping posture that seemed to radiate violence and danger. Its eyes surveyed the world with cold intelligence, with malice and utter disregard for life.

The figure bent over, its body going into violent spasms. It shifted and contorted like a circus performer. Bones popped and cracked.

It fell to all fours, its limbs shrinking in length and width. Its muscled torso contracted, fur sprouting across its chest and back. A mane emerged, a tail shortly after.

The transformation ended, and a unicorn stallion stood in place of the former monstrosity. Tilting back his head, he breathed deep, savoring the taste of this new world.

HIS world.

He stepped out of the shadows, and a ray of moonlight illuminated the cutie mark on his flank, the symbol looking as though it had been carved directly into his skin.

Breaking into an easy canter, the stallion began descending the mountain. He had no idea where to begin his search for Alduin. He knew neither the city nor the country where the dragon could be found. He did not even know the direction in which to travel. He had only the image of Alduin's new form and that of a unicorn filly, her coat a vivid purple, her mane streaked with pink and violet.

It mattered little. He was a patient deity. He would search this world from pole to pole, corrupting all in his path until he found them.

And then, then the real fun would begin.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Well, it's done. I hope you all enjoy, and let me know what you think. Comments, suggestions, errors that I missed, I welcome them all.

See you next chapter!

Draconic Translations-

**Wuld Nah Kest-**

Whirlwind, Fury, Tempest (Draconic Shout for instant travel)

**Yol Tor Shul-**

Fire, Inferno, Sun (Draconic Shout for breathing fire)

**Bah Ag Du-  
><strong>

Wrath, Burn, Devour (Draconic shout for breathing a single fireball)


	10. The Hunt is On

Alright, chapter ten done and dusted. Finally hit that timeskip and got us nearly to Season 1. I swear, I kept that prologue going WAY too damn long.

Chapter 10- The Hunt is On

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_Woe to you, oh earth and sea_

_for the devil sends the beast with wrath_

_because he knows the time is short_

_Iron Maiden- Number of the Beast_

_._

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><p><em>.<em>

Dawn broke upon the world, spreading its rosy fingertips over land, sea, and shore. In time, it reached even the lost and lonely places of the world, bathing a solitary mountain in light. The peak was still and peaceful but for the one raven-black speck descending its northern face.

Something that looked like a unicorn struggled his way down the mountainside. His hooves and legs were red and sticky with blood, and every step was taken in the unsteady manner of a foal still learning to walk. Frustration was plain on his face.

Setting his legs, he took another cautious step, but the loose soil shifted beneath the weight of his hoof. His leg was swept out from under him; he toppled forwards and began to slide. Rocks cut at his stomach as he fought to slow his descent. He dug a hoof into the ground, found a hold, lost it. The sudden movement of his foreleg sent him rolling, and he tumbled painfully down the slope until he landed in a thick copse of fir trees.

He lay there dazed, nose crumpled and blood dripping from his mouth. His body ached with the incessant sting of a hundred bruises and cuts. Not for the first time, he cursed the form that he had taken. How did these inferior creatures stand it? The weakness of the senses, the frailty of the limbs. It was a brittle vessel, nothing short of a skin-wrapped package of fragile bones and loose guts waiting to be ruptured and spilled. He longed to resume his true form, if only to get him down this mountain.

But he could not. As tiresome as it was to masquerade as this vermin, his plan required it. He needed to walk, talk, look and act like one of them, and that required practice. If tripping over his own hooves was the price to pay for secrecy, then so be it.

His eye burned as a trickle of blood ran down his face. He blinked it away and struggled to his hooves, only to pitch forwards as his left foreleg gave out. Picking his face out of the dirt, he glared down at the offending limb. The slightest touch made it throb with pain.

He sighed aloud. Broken in the fall. It seemed that this task would test his patience in more ways than one. Easing back onto his rump, he looked down at the leg and waited.

And waited.

His eyes narrowed to slits. A dull, fetid glow encompassed the limb. Cuts began to seal, and the broken pieces of bone ground against one another as they started to mend.

But then the glow vanished.

He blinked in surprise before concentrating on the fracture, directing his magic, commanding it to heal. The glow returned, but his energy was stubborn, suddenly difficult to control. He paid it no mind, but focused only on healing himself. He had no warning before something far worse than the pain of a broken leg struck.

His magic ran out.

It started with a sudden and paralyzing coldness. Countless enchantments faltered, no longer staving off fatigue or repairing torn muscle or supplying oxygen. Left with the unfamiliar task of sustaining itself, the unicorn's body collapsed.

The transformation failed next. Fur and hair dug back under his skin, fangs slashed through his gums, his spine bent with a series of cracks as his limbs grew in length. And with no magic to deaden the pain, he felt every lengthening bone, every tearing sinew.

He threw back his deformed head and roared in pain. Flailing blindly, he searched for any trace of his magic, found it, and latched on. Putting it all to use, he managed to stop himself mid-change.

He lay there for some time, his body grotesque and misshapen, caught between equine and Daedra. His mind was fogged by agony and confusion. What in Oblivion had happened? He had no idea, only that for the first time in his long existence, for as short a time as it lasted, he had truly been powerless, truly been weak. And he did not like it.

Gradually, he felt confident that his body was no longer at risk, but it was still several minutes before he closed his eyes and moved a hoof to his temple. In his mind's eye, he sought the ethereal stream of magic flowing from his sphere. He was shocked to discover just how long a distance it stretched to reach him. So long that what was normally a tidal wave of power became the slightest trickle when it reached its destination.

Now he understood. Killing Sheogorath, opening the gates to invade the Isles, and finally making the long trip between worlds had exhausted his powers. And now, so far away from the source, they were replenishing at a snail's pace.

His mind raced. He rifled through stolen thoughts, replayed images, struggling to see how he could have missed such an important detail. The pieces began falling into place: The sheer difficulty Sheogorath had encountered in summoning the Wabbajack from Tamriel. The multiple attempts required to fully transform Alduin's body. Even Akatosh's reason for summoning him was a clear indicator of the staggering amounts of energy needed to function in this world. And like a fool, he had ignored the signs. To his utter disgust, the madgod had tricked him once again. Unintentionally, of course, but that only made it more infuriating.

He cursed himself for his hastiness, and cursed Sheogorath simply for good measure.

Eventually, his anger faded. Day passed into night, then to day and night again. By and by, enough magic returned for him to assume his unicorn shape. From there, he lay as still and silent as a corpse, pondering his next move. The choice was an important one. Should he continue on, knowing full well that his magic was all but depleted? Or should he remain here and wait until his reserves were full once again?

In the end, he chose to err on the side of caution. Long the wait might be, but better that than to risk failure due to weakness.

Satisfied in his choice, he crawled beneath the boughs of a tree. The ground beneath was soft and dry with fallen needles; the heavy branches would keep him out of sight and undisturbed. It would do. Curling up against the trunk, the unicorn crossed his forelegs and lowered his muzzle down upon them.

His eyes closed, but even behind the lids those twin orbs of silver glowed coldly as the days passed, then months, then seasons. The snows fell and melted. Pine needles feel and blanketed his form like a shroud.

Still, he waited.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Five months into the eighth year, two eyes like shining silver coins opened in the darkness. The unicorn struggled to lift his head, but only managed the barest inch before it fell. He blinked in confusion. Lowering his gaze, he saw that his body had atrophied severely. He had allowed it only the barest amount of magicka to keep it functional. Now, skin was stretched taut over bone, muscles were starved away.

How much time had passed?

He disregarded the question and turned his attention inwards. A hot, fierce glow burned from the center of his being. He smiled in triumph. He was whole again.

With a mental twitch, magicka surged through his body, repairing the damage caused by his long wait. Power rippled around him, yearning for release. Teeth bared in a grin, he took hold of the tree at his back and telekinetically ripped it from the ground. Snapping the trunk in half, he flung the pieces aside and breathed in a full, rich gulp of the mountain air. The sensation of returning to his full strength was intoxicating.

The unicorn's eyes shone with a manic gleam. Too much time had been wasted. Alduin had to be found. Had to be. His chances of success fell with every moment the dragon was safe and out of his grasp. Not to mention that Alduin would only fall deeper into his false reality. He had to find him, open his eyes. It would be for the best, really. The longer he lived in that delusional lie Akatosh had crafted, the more painful it would be to face the truth.

So Alduin had to be found. Would be found. If not today, then tomorrow. Or the next day. There were only so many places a dragon could hide.

And he had waited long enough.

Legs coiling like springs, the unicorn gave a mighty leap that took him high over the surrounding treetops. He landed several hundred feet down the slope, bones shattering like matchsticks on impact. He healed them instantly with a quick burst of magic and leapt again.

He hit the ground running, leaving the mountain far behind. His legs worked clumsily in the dark, but hours of nonstop motion would break them into rhythm.

As he ran, he searched once more through Sheogorath's memories. There was so little he knew, and so many places to search. He had only the image of a room, a storm lashing at the windows.

But what manner of building housed that room? Was it located in a mountain hamlet, or some bustling city? Was Alduin there still, or had the dragon been moved elsewhere?

There were too many unknowns. So be it. He would find someone, and discover what they knew. If the answer wasn't there, he would find another. And another, if need be.

A dim, purple glow swirled around him, and the world exploded in color. He blinked away the countless lights coming from solitary creatures and focused on detecting the life-force of larger groups. His head snapped to one such grouping of color to his right. A city, perhaps?

Breaking into a gallop, the unicorn found himself grinning in anticipation of the pain and suffering to come.

He never slowed, hooves thrumming against the grass, breath rumbling low and powerful in his chest, magicka whisking away the toxins of fatigue and feeding energy to his legs. Days went by; the woodlands opened to prairie, and the prairie thinned into desert.

But no matter the distance he covered, his life detection spell endured, and his course remained true.

He was getting close, now. The distant glow had spread into a field of light, and now he could discern individuals from the larger mass. His pace slowed. He was beginning to see a pattern in their movements, and he could hear the pounding of hooves, smell the musk and sweat of a hundred moving bodies. In less than an hour's time he was upon them.

Crouching low against a windswept dune, he lifted his head over the top and watched.

They were large creatures, several times the size of his borrowed shape. Their fur was rough and matted with dust, and muscles rippled along their backs and haunches. They moved as a group, thundering across the ground with no visible destination. A great assortment of items lay atop their backs. Everything from bedding to tools to disassembled shelters were being carried along.

Nomads, he realized. Tough and well-suited to surviving beneath the desert sun. Certainly, they were not the creatures he sought. But if their travels reached far enough, perhaps they might be able to better direct him?

Keeping well out of sight, he followed the stampede, knowing that eventually they would stop for the night. Sure enough, the great mass of buffalo slowed to a halt as dusk crept over the dunes. He waited as they settled in.

Soon enough, the lights of campfires began to appear, and the air was filled with the sounds of conversation, laughter and singing. These poor wretches really did make things too easy.

Slinking low over the sand, he circled the camp, looking for an opportunity. Should he assume one of their shapes and simply take the information as they slept? A flash of movement caught his eye; a buffalo calf, tiredly stumbling away from one of the campfires.

His mouth twitched upwards into something too fierce and ugly to be called a smile. This presented far too great of an opportunity to pass up.

He was beside it in a flash. Its eyes widened in shock before he shoved a green, glowing hoof into its face and loosed a fully-charged paralysis spell. The calf's body went rigid and toppled to the ground. Chuckling to himself, he hooked a foreleg around its neck and began to drag it away.

He was just passing one of the shelters when something massive loomed up in front of him, its shape blotting out the stars. The bull glared down at him, jaw clenched.

"Let. Her. Go," it said, each word enunciated with barely-contained rage.

Giving a light shrug, the unicorn uncurled his leg. The calf's body fell to the dirt with a thud, and he quickly kicked it to the side.

"You should be more careful what you ask for," he said casually.

It gave a furious yell and charged, ducking its head and slamming directly into the smaller creature. The unicorn gave a hard flinch, but held his ground.

The buffalo stumbled back, stunned from the impact. It recovered quickly, charged once more, but this time angling its head to try and catch and gore him through the chest.

At the last moment, he dodged back and away from the rising horns, then drew back his head and snapped it down hard. There was a gruesome crack as their skulls collided and the buffalo's forehead crumpled inwards, eyes glazing as it crashed to a heap on the ground. He watched for a moment, idly wondering if their short 'battle' had attracted any attention.

When the laughter and conversation went undisturbed, he wordlessly hefted the calf and continued on his way.

When he judged them to be out of earshot, the unicorn dropped the unmoving body and waited for the enchantment to run its course. Suddenly the calf's body loosened, and it sprawled limply across the ground, gasping and gulping large breaths of air. He sat and watched for a moment, then asked "Can you understand me?"

The calf's head swiveled towards him, and he saw absolute bewilderment in its eyes, like a child seeing a fairy tale come to life in front of them. Its mouth opened and closed soundlessly. He realized in amusement that it had not yet seen him clearly. It had only caught the slightest glimpse before his spell took hold.

He gave it a shrewd look and rose to his hooves. "We both know the answer to that question. I spoke to your would-be rescuer easily enough. However, I do not enjoy being ignored, so I will ask again. Can you understand me?"

Its breaths were becoming short and panicked. It looked over its shoulder to the distant camp, and then it was scrambling away, trying to both crawl and stand at the same time.

The unicorn sighed lightly. Enough of these delays. He took a half-step forward and kicked the buffalo savagely in the chest. There was a wet cracking sound as bones broke, and the calf let out a shrill wail of pain as it was knocked to the ground.

He leaned down over its face, waited until tear-streaked eyes opened. Then he asked again. "Can you understand me?"

"Ye-yes," it said.

His face brightened. "Wonderful," he said. "That won't make things easier, I'm afraid. But it will make them much more entertaining."

He trod a slow, lazy circle around the buffalo, chuckling when it shied away from his hooves. After several minutes of tense silence, he paused.

"Do you know what I am," he asked. It tensed, but made no reply. He stepped over it, making sure to brush his hooves roughly over its chest. It clenched its teeth firmly to keep from screaming.

"I think you do," he continued. "And I think you're wise enough to remember what will happen if you don't answer. So tell me, where can more of my kind be found?"

It hesitated for less than a second. "No… I… I don't know what you are. I've never seen… anything like you before. Please, I don't know!"

He drew back and kicked the calf in the face, mindful to avoiding damaging its jaw. Its left eye swelled shut, nose bursting in a spray of blood as a dark hoof-shaped bruise bloomed over its face. For good measure, he directed another kick to its ribs; they broke like rotted timbers.

This time he ignored the screaming and spoke into the buffalo's ear. "Oh, you know something. It's written all over your face. Perhaps something you've seen, or heard. Even if it's only a city on the horizon, or a spot on a map, there's something inside your head that I want. And you are going to give it to me."

He let it get its blubbering under control, reclining back in the sand with a peaceful smile on his face. He delighted in its terror, watching its eyes darting back and forth, praying for someone to come and rescue it from this nightmare. He even let it call for help, the screams echoing unanswered over the dunes until its voice went hoarse.

Finally the cries tapered off. When its remaining eye landed on him, he stood and approached. Recognizing the intent, it tried to crawl backwards in panic.

"Wait, please wait," it begged. "I do know something! One of the other tribes, we would meet them during our stampedes! Their scouts would tell us stories, stories about creatures like you!"

He sneered and drew back a hoof. "What good are stories to me," he asked mockingly.

The buffalo cried out and held both forelegs out beseechingly. "No, it's true! I swear, it's all true! They saw the creatures with their own eyes, visited their homes! Please-"

His hoof lowered. "Did they," he asked thoughtfully. "And did these stories tell you where the creatures could be found? What their cities looked like? The direction and distance one would travel?"

"Yes, yes," the calf said. "All of that!"

"Then I suppose you should tell me after all."

The buffalo started to speak, but stopped. He could see the fear on its face. "If… if I tell you," it said desperately, "will you promise not to hurt me anymore?"

"There is no 'if' about it," he said in a flat, dead voice. "You will tell me, I can assure you of that. Afterwards? Well, I am going to kill you."

A hitching sob tore from the calf's lips. This time, it took several minutes for the cries and begging and pleading to end, but he waited patiently until the buffalo simply had no more tears to shed.

"I'm going to kill you," he repeated. "But how you die, and what comes after, are entirely up to you."

He stepped closer, mouth uplifted in grim amusement. "You see, you've withheld the truth from me once already. I'm curious to see if you'll do so again."

He continued before it could respond. "So, here is what will happen. You will tell me everything. If you leave anything out, I will know. If you lie, I will know. And then?"

He leaned in, almost muzzle to muzzle with the terrified calf. "If you are truthful, I will break each of your legs, put out your eyes, and rip your tongue from your mouth. Then I will make my way to this city, dragging you along until heat and exposure end your suffering. And it will end then and there. I will leave this land and your pitiful tribe in peace, never to return."

He stepped back, and then lowered his head until the deadly point of his horn was pressing against the calf's stomach.

"If, on the other hand, I find that you have withheld any information, I will slit your belly open wide and let you bleed out on the sands, then make a trail of your blood back to that miserable camp. And then, when others find and follow it here, I will ask my questions of them, and kill them in turn, until I am satisfied."

He could see the question on its lips long before it spoke. "Wha… what if I lie?"

"If you lie…" he purred. "I will show you mercy. Your death will be swift and painless. I promise; you won't feel a thing. But then I will go to your camp and I will kill them all, slowly, cruelly. I will force mothers to watch their children die, kill wives in front of their husbands, and leave each of their bodies to rot and bloat in the sun."

He stepped back, allowing the information to sink in. He was slightly impressed when no further pleas or cries were voiced.

"This will be the greatest and last decision of your short life," he promised. "Do you understand the consequences that your choice will entail?"

It nodded, and he could see the utter despair in its eyes.

"Then speak now, and choose your words wisely."

And it told him everything. The direction to travel, the supposed distance, even what vague descriptions had been passed down about the inhabitants. He had to admit, it sounded promising. So he listened in silence, his face revealing nothing, until it was apparent that the calf had nothing left to tell.

He clambered to his hooves and looked out over the moonlit sand. He inhaled, long and deep, and lowered his head as though in thought. Finally, he looked back to the calf and fixed it with a withering smile.

"I am grateful for your help. And I think… you've earned a quick death."

A fresh wave of horror passed over its face. "Wha… no! No, no, no you can't! Please… I told you what you wanted! It was the truth, all of it! My tribe, you said you'd…"

"Why should you concern yourself with them," he interrupted. "Whatever happens, you won't be in a position to care."

It leaned forward, grasping his foreleg between its hooves.

"You promised! Please, just leave them-"

He reared back and stomped down hard on the calf's head. Its body gave a final shudder, skull cracking open like an egg. Flicking the gore off of his hoof, the unicorn took a final look into the buffalo's lifeless eyes. They were wide with fear and revulsion. It made him wonder if the rest of his people would be so easy to break.

Silver eyes flicked back to the scattered glow of campfires. For a moment, he considered following through on his promise.

No. No, he had indulged himself already, had his fun. He needed to get back on Alduin's trail. He would leave them be for now. Let them find the bodies. Let them mourn and curse and wonder. Their time would come soon enough.

He trod over the corpse and galloped off without looking back.

* * *

><p>.<p>

_Spike was perched at the edge of a jagged outcropping of rock. Below him, sheer cliffs fell hundreds of feet to the valley below. The land was still green, its lakes and streams not yet taken by frost. But the snows were coming; he could see it in the thick grey clouds to the east, could feel the bite in the air. And once they came, they would not leave quickly, not in this land of winter._

_He wasn't sure how he knew this. The landscape was strange and unfamiliar, but something within him called it home. He felt himself moving, leaning out and over that massive drop. Afraid, he tried to pull back, but his body refused to obey. Only able to watch, he felt himself standing. Massive wings unfurled, HIS wings, he realized. Then he was leaping off the crag, wings giving a hard stroke as he plunged into thin air._

He felt something move away from him, his side growing colder as its warmth vanished. The surface he was laying upon shifted as the weight was removed. Still half-asleep, he barely noticed the sound of hooves shuffling on carpet or the metallic clink of jewelry.

There was a brief humming sound, and then a soft ephemeral feeling surrounded him. Blankets gently slid away, and then he was being lifted into the air. He gave a soft groan of discomfort and blearily cracked open an eye, trying to discover the source of this rude awakening. He caught a glimpse of blue magic and candlelight reflecting off gold before he was set down. Warm fur against his scales. Sighing in contentment, he embraced the new heat source and quickly drifted back into slumber.

_He flew head-on into the blizzard. Snow lashed at his face and wings, propelled by the shrieking winds. Somehow, he knew that he could break this storm apart in an instant, if he so chose. But instead he continued through those grey clouds, enjoying the struggle, enjoying the ferocity of the weather._

_Dark shapes rose up on either side: two other dragons were flying alongside him. Chasing him? Following? His head turned to the left, locking eyes with the smaller creature. Its head dipped in a show of respect, and then it was speaking, voice loud and easily heard over the wind. The words were alien and unrecognizable to him, but somehow he knew that he had been greeted, that these two were here to offer aid should he require it._

_His own mouth opened, and then he felt his tongue moving as he too spoke in that unfamiliar language. Whatever he said, the two dragons made noises of agreement and fell several feet behind, their posture now that of a military escort._

A loud noise roused him, the creaking of hinges and the hollow clang of a shutting door. The object beneath him was moving. Spike could feel the steady rhythm of steps and hear the click of hooves on stone. Voices came from ahead, and he vaguely wondered if they were speaking the same tongue as the dragons in his dream. He tried to listen, but it was too quiet to tell.

They paused briefly, and he could hear another door swinging open. A burst of cold air swept over him, and he shivered against the morning's chill. Not as resilient as he had been in the dream, he snuggled deeper into the warm fur, not hearing the quiet giggle that was quickly muffled by a hoof.

It was humid outside, the chill mild, but still enough to pull him further from sleep. The howl of the storm and the feel of his beating wings faded, until there was only the quiet morning dawn and the rustling of branches in the wind.

Suddenly there was a loud humming in his ears, and he could feel the air being charged with magic. The hum built into a whine, then a high trill. There was a flash of light, bright enough that he could see it even through his closed eyelids, and a familiar warmth prickled at his scales.

Spike groaned once more and moved an arm over his face to try and block the sunlight. But the damage had been done; he was wide awake.

Sighing to himself, already knowing what was next, he opened his eyes. And there she was, just like every other morning he could remember. Her eyes were bright, her mane flowing in the wind, and a soft smile on her face, a smile only for him.

"Rise and shine, child of mine," Princess Celestia said.

"It's way too early, mom," Spike complained. Dropping his arm, he tried to escape the sun by squeezing his head beneath one of the alicorn's wings.

"Oh no you don't," she said, lifting her wing away.

Spike huffed and moved into a sitting position. "Why do we always have to do this?"

"Now Spike," she said. "You know quite well that it is my foremost duty to raise and lower the sun with each passing day. And it is summer, after all, so it must be done especially early."

"That's not what I meant! I mean why do you always bring ME out here too? I don't help with anything, so why can't I sleep in? You could have one of the servants wake me up."

She gave him a know-it-all smirk. "I don't think so, mister. We both know that you've got everypony in the castle wrapped around your claw. All you'd have to do is ask for five more minutes, and I'm sure they'd let you snooze into the afternoon."

Darn it, how did she know? Scrambling for a different approach, Spike clasped his claws together and gave his mother the most pathetic look he could manage.

"But mommy, I'm a growing dragon! I NEED sleep! What if waking up so early stuts… stuns… makes me stop growing? I don't wanna be this short forever!"

Celestia gave a delighted gasp and put a hoof to her chin. "Why, that would be wonderful! Just imagine, you'd always be my little baby boy!"

"What," he squawked. "That's not what I meant! And it wouldn't be wonderful, it'd be bad!"

She levitated him around to face her. "Oh, I disagree. Because if you grow up, I won't be able to do this anymore," she leaned in and blew a raspberry against his stomach, causing him to burst out laughing.

"Ah! Mo… mom! Cut it out!" Spike pushed against her muzzle, trying to keep his giggling under control.

She looked up and gave him a light peck on the nose. "Alright, alright, I was only teasing."

Her smile dropped a fraction. "But sometimes I do feel like you're growing up too fast. Before long you'll be too big for me to hold in my hooves or carry on my back."

He immediately thought back to his dream, and somehow he knew she was right. Reaching up, he wrapped both arms around Celestia's neck and nuzzled her cheek.

"Don't worry, mom," he said as bravely as he could. "When that happens, I'll be the one holding you! And you can ride on MY back!"

She beamed down at him. "Oh Spike, you're the most wonderful son a mother could ask for."

"I like to think I am," he said with a grin.

Any further words were cut off by a loud gurgle from the dragon's belly. Celestia gave him an amused look. "Well, that won't do. How are you supposed to grow into a big, strong dragon and take care of me without breakfast? We'll have to fix that. In fact, how about I make you a deal?"

Spike's eyes lit up. Any kind of deal involving breakfast sounded good to him.

"Since you were thoughtful enough to keep me company while I raised the sun, how would you like to invite a friend to come and have breakfast with us?"

"Really? I can invite anypony I want?"

She nodded. "Yes, any-"

"Twilight!"

Celestia chuckled. "I would never have guessed." She returned Spike to her back and began trotting towards the castle.

"Alright then, let's see if my faithful student will mind delaying her studies for awhile."

At first, Spike had been glad that his mother elected to walk rather than fly. The Sparkle household was quite a distance from the castle, and he hoped to use that extra time to maybe sneak in a quick nap. Unfortunately, their route led directly through the heart of Canterlot. Between the city's hustle and bustle and the constant stream of ponies greeting them, Spike never even had a chance to close his eyes.

A trio of schoolfillies passed by, waving up at him. He returned the gesture, and was left slightly confused when they giggled and galloped away. It didn't feel like he would ever get used to that. Complete strangers running up to greet him, ponies excitedly asking to shake his claw or touch his spines, parents leaping at the opportunity to introduce their children to him.

He could understand why they acted that way towards his mother. She WAS the princess, after all. She controlled the sun and moon, and had ruled Equestria for… well… forever he supposed. It made sense for them to treat her special. But why him? He didn't do any of that stuff. He was just… Spike.

But he didn't want to be rude or mean, so he returned the greetings and smiled and waved just like Celestia did, and was relieved when she finally bid goodbye to their well-wishers and stopped in front of the house.

Celestia lifted a hoof and knocked firmly on the door. Hoofsteps approached, and then the door swung open to reveal a unicorn mare in a white, fluffy bathrobe. Her eyes widened as she recognized the visitors.

"Well, good morning your majesties," she said quickly. "Please, come in!"

Celestia stepped inside, closing the door behind her as Mrs. Sparkle wrung her hooves together nervously.

"I hope you can forgive the mess in here," she said. "If only I'd known you were coming, I'd have cleaned up, or put the kettle on, or at least done something with my mane."

The alicorn glanced over the spotless living room and smiled. "No harm done. In truth, we should be the ones apologizing for such an abrupt visit. You see, we were hoping to borrow your daughter for a short time."

"Oh, oh of course! Hmm, I don't think she's woken up yet though…"

"So go wake her up," Spike advised. He gave Celestia a light nudge and continued sarcastically. "Isn't that what moms are supposed to do?"

She turned to give him a playful glare, and Mrs. Sparkle burst out laughing.

"Oh… I see," she said. "Somedragon wasn't too thrilled about waking up with the sun, was he?"

"Nope," Spike said.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't be fair to let you suffer alone now would it? Let me go see if I can fetch Twilight."

The unicorn vanished up the stairs, and soon they could hear a series of loud knocks against wood.

"Honey, it's time to wake up!"

After a few moments, the knocking began again.

"Twilight? Did you hear me?"

A door creaked open, only to suddenly slam shut.

"Twilight Sparkle! What have I told you about locking doors with your magic?! You open this right now!"

Spike looked back to Celestia. "Is that why you don't let me have my own room?"

The princess smirked. "Can you blame me? I'd have to smash down the door and drag you out every morning."

The knocking turned into loud banging.

"YOUNG LADY, THE PRINCESS HERSELF IS WAITING FOR YOU DOWNSTAIRS! NOW YOU OPEN THIS-"

Several things happened in the next few seconds.

A door was flung against the wall with enough force to shake the entire house.

Mrs. Sparkle gave a loud yelp of surprise.

There was a heavy thud as some poor pony was knocked to the ground.

A mysterious purple blur rocketed down the stairs and screeched to a stop in front of the dumbfounded royals.

"Princess, what are you doing here? Oh no, did I miss my lesson? I must have overslept, forcing you to come and find me" she stammered in panic. "I'm so, so sorry for oversleeping! I knew three alarm clocks wouldn't be enough!"

Before her tirade could go any further, Spike burst out laughing.

"Wow, Twilight," he said, looking her over. "Don't you know that Nightmare Night is like six months away?"

Twilight was gasping for breath, her eyes still bleary and unfocused from her sudden awakening. Her fur was in complete disarray, with tufts poking out in every direction. Her tail was knotted and tangled, and her mane was sticking out in two large cowlicks that almost looked like his ear fins. Bed-head was too kind a description.

Spike tapped his chin with a claw. "Hmm, let me guess. Bride of Foalenstein, right?"

Temporarily forgetting her earlier panic, Twilight glared at him. "Oh, shut up. You're just lucky you don't have a mane that needs to be brushed out every morning."

"Hey! It takes a lot of work to look this good!" Put on the defensive, Spike slid down from Celestia's back. Holding out an arm, he pointed at the gleaming purple scales.

"Do you know how much polishing it takes to make me all shiny and stuff?"

Celestia stepped between the two. "Now, now, we didn't come here to fight." She glanced back to Twilight. "I know this is rather short notice, but Spike and I hoped that you might join us for breakfast before the two of you begin your lessons."

Twilight perked up immediately, both in excitement for the outing and relief that her lessons had not been missed. Giving a rapid nod of her head, she turned and zoomed back up the stairs, returning in half a minute with her coat smooth, mane straight and tail brushed.

Levitating Spike onto her back, she grinned up at the princess. "Ready!"

"Then let's be on our way," Celestia replied.

"Hi Ho Twilight," Spike yelled as the unicorn trotted out the door. Celestia shook her head in amusement and followed.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Unbeknownst to Celestia, she and Spike would not be the only unexpected guests in the city that day. As the sun gradually tracked across the sky, several hundred ponies were plodding through the Andalusian Forest north of Canterlot. The group was strung out in a long and ragged line; at the lead was a unicorn mare. She was pushing stubbornly through the undergrowth, stopping occasionally as if to check their direction.

They had been travelling for days, pushing themselves nearly to the point of exhaustion. Despite this, their progress was slow. A group such as theirs could only move as fast as the weakest member, and with so many wounded and children among them, their weakest were firmly in the majority.

Seeing that many were on the verge of collapse, she lifted a hoof and signaled for them to halt. The numerous ponies dropped gratefully to the forest floor, eager to rest their weary legs.

She made her way back, checking on each of the scattered clusters that had formed from the main group. Passing each, she asked the same question to each of the escorting guards.

"Have the groups ahead and behind stayed within sight? Have any gone missing or arrived without warning?"

Luckily, every guard's report was positive. All of their people were accounted for, and though many were in poor condition, none seemed to be in any real danger.

Even better, it seemed that he was not following them. She would not deny that the first days of their exodus had found her in a constant state of fear. She had expected him to pursue, to meld into their group and attack from within or simply come bursting out of the trees. She fought sleep in those early nights, her ears straining at the darkness for any sound of hooves in the shadows.

Even now, she half-expected to see those cold, silver eyes glaring at her from deep within the foliage.

She willed herself to be calm. Her people trusted her, were counting on her. She had to be strong for them. She knew that they had to be close. Almost there, almost safe.

"My queen?"

She looked over to see one of her guards. The stallion's face was half-covered in bandages, and his legs looked ready to give out, but she could see the excitement in his eyes.

"You need to see this! Quickly, it's this way!"

As wounds were re-bandaged and parents tended to their children, she followed him ahead. The trees were thinning, and when she finally emerged from the forest she was met with the most welcome of sights.

A large mountain towered up into the blue sky, and built into its side was a great and gleaming city. One that she had not seen since long ago in her youth.

Canterlot.

"Is that it," he asked. "The sanctuary you promised us?"

"Yes," she said after a moment's hesitation. "We are nearly there."

They looked out across the plains, each trying to estimate the time it would take in reaching the city.

"Do you think she'll remember you," the stallion asked.

She gave a hollow laugh. "Oh, I'd imagine that she will. If not, I'm certain it will be easy enough to refresh her memory."

"A more pressing concern is whether or not she'll be pleased to see me again," the mare said.

Now that they had made it this far, that was the real question, wasn't it? Would the princess mind having company over for the next few years?

The walk back was quiet as she pondered her next step. Should she bring them all with her into the city? Or would such a move immediately put the citizens on edge? Would it seem like a hostile move?

And what if their request was denied? Their lives might be at risk, and she doubted they would be able to escape Canterlot in their current state.

But at the same time, could she risk leaving them here to wait? True, they were all stable for the time being, but only she was familiar with the land, and she doubted they would be able to survive on their own. What would they do if she failed to return? Or if that… thing caught up to them?

She was so lost in thought that she nearly walked right past her subjects. In a way, she almost wished she had. Several hundred eyes were focused upon her, each of them filled with worry and fatigue and barely restrained despair. Each of them wondering what was next. Each of them believing in her to know what was best.

"Everyone, I have wonderful news," she said, and the group leaned forwards in anticipation.

"Our journey is nearly at an end. Canterlot waits just beyond this forest, its walls no further than a half day's walk."

A cheer rose up through the line, and the many ponies seemed to deflate with relief.

"But first, I must go and speak with the ruler of this land. I will explain the direness of our situation and beg for her assistance. I do not know how she will react, however, and I have no desire to risk your lives should the worst occur. Therefore I must ask that you remain here, safe and out of sight, until I return."

Beckoning with her hoof, she called her guards up to stand beside her. "If luck is with us, we should return with news before the day is out. Rest for now, and I shall see you when I return."

She turned to the guards, picking several out of the group. "The ten of you will accompany me. The rest of you will remain here to keep watch over our people. I expect constant vigilance."

"We passed a clearing no more than half a mile back," she said. "I want you to move everyone there and establish a perimeter. Keep within sight of one another at all times, and let no one leave unless they are accompanied by at least two others."

One guard spoke up. "And what will we do if he arrives?"

"If he shows up, you will raise the alarm without hesitation. Every soldier and able-bodied adult should rush him immediately. Overwhelm him with numbers, get him pinned down, and then drain him in unison."

The guard's face paled. "But, that will…"

"I know what will happen," she snapped. "But we cannot defeat him otherwise. I pray that we never see him again, but IF we do, that may be our only chance."

As they turned to depart, one voice was raised from the back of the group.

"But your highness, wait! What will we do if you don't come back?"

She paused, struggling to decide how best to respond. In the end, she could only keep walking. Her silence was enough of an answer.

* * *

><p>.<p>

The Canterlot throne room was a whirlwind with activity. With so many things vying for her attention, Celestia felt as though she was being pulled in every direction at once.

On her right was Sweet Grass, carrying a massive pile of documents on his back. One by one, the earth pony would reach up and pass her the next report. From there, she would have to carefully examine its contents, choose to reject or revise it if need be, then finally add her signature. Finally, she would pass it along to Chinook, who was hovering alongside her and holding the gradually rising stack of finished work.

All in all, a very efficient system. Or at least it should have been. But the situation was compounded by two very important distractions.

One was sitting at her hooves, a quill in his claw, a math book at his feet and a look of intense concentration on his face. The other was several feet ahead, practicing her magical finesse by levitating and manipulating two dozen objects at once and struggling not to drop or bang them together.

The end result was Celestia trying to handle an unending stream of paperwork while simultaneously checking Spike's answers and monitoring Twilight's control. This led to the princess passing several completed papers back to Sweet Grass, unknowingly signing her name in the wrong sections of the documents, and occasionally not paying the slightest attention to their contents.

She was just looking over a price estimate for repairing the primary bridge to Manehattan when she snuck a glance down at her son's work and chuckled.

"Wait, Spike," she said, accidentally shoving a paper into Chinook's face. "Remember, when you square you're multiplying the number by itself. So it should be five times five, not five times two."

"Oh, right. Thanks mom!"

She managed to get another three papers approved before she noticed Twilight's face turning an even deeper shade of purple.

"Twilight," she called, raising a hoof that nearly bowled Sweet Grass over. "Don't hold your breath while casting, especially during such a prolonged spell. I know it might seem to help with your concentration, but you don't want to pass out now, do you?"

The unicorn squeaked out an apology before sucking in a breath.

"Princess, you've signed that form eleven times now."

"Oh, so I have. Pass me the next, won't you?"

"Hey mom, my quill broke. Can I borrow another?"

"Of course, Spike. Here you are."

"Wait your majesty, these last two reports are unsigned."

"That's odd. I could have sworn I… wait. What happened to my quill?"

"Umm, I believe you gave it to Spike, your majesty."

*Clang!*

*Crash!*

*Bong!*

*Bang!*

"Argh!"

Everypony in the room jumped as several helmets fell to the floor. One landed on Sweet Grass' head, disorienting the earth pony and causing several hundred sheets of paper to go flying. Twilight looked up sheepishly.

"Oops."

Celestia laughed out loud. Passing the last completed report back to Chinook, she said, "I think we've all earned a break."

Dismissing the councilors, she motioned for both students to clean up their respective work areas. She watched as Spike ran back and forth, quickly laying his books on a nearby table while Twilight levitated each helmet onto its respective guard's head. She couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm, and then let out a groan as she looked over the numerous reports scattered across the floor.

"So how come you have so much extra work today," Spike asked as she began magically sorting them out. He gave the papers a wary glance and shuddered. "I bet my claw would fall off if I tried signing all those!"

"It is quite a bit more than I usually handle in one day," she admitted. "But there is a small matter which I must attend to tomorrow, so I felt it best to move some of the next day's itinerary."

"Oh, right," Twilight said. "You're going to Cloudsdale tomorrow, aren't you?"

Celestia blinked in surprise. "How did you know that?"

The unicorn's ears drooped slightly. "Well, I heard my grandpa talking about it the other night. He was complaining to my mom about how you always refuse to bring any guards with you. He said that you were 'taking a damned stupid risk because she doesn't want to feel crowded.'"

Celestia was about to reprimand Twilight for cursing in front of Spike, but the baby dragon had already leapt up and turned to her in excitement.

"You're going to Cloudsdale? Can we come too?"

"Well, I don't know…"

"Please, mom? Neither of us has ever been there before! And it's supposed to be really cool. I heard they make rainbows there, and it's where the Wonderbolts perform!"

Twilight joined in. "Yes, it would be great to see a real pegasus city! And it would be a wonderful learning experience for us too! We could study the architectural designs of cloud buildings, and map the street layouts, and make an in-depth comparison between it and land-based urban centers!"

She nudged the baby dragon. "Isn't that right, Spike," she asked conspiratorially.

The dragon nodded. "Yea, umm, all that stuff she said!"

Celestia thought it over, but the doors flew open before she could respond. Her gaze lifted to see a pegasus guard leading in several exhausted looking stallions.

"Forgive the interruption, your majesty," the pegasus said. "But these ponies have sought an audience with you. They say it is quite urgent."

Levitating the papers onto a table, she nodded and settled back on the throne. "Of course. Thank you, Captain Phalanx."

Looking back to the group, she smiled invitingly. "Don't be nervous, my little ponies. Come in."

They entered the room slowly, and she noticed one unicorn mare that seemed to carry herself in a manner suggesting command. There was something about them that she found strange. Their posture seemed tense, like they were readying themselves for trouble.

She pushed the thoughts away. "Now then, what is it you wish to discuss?"

The mare stepped forwards, and the other ponies followed. When they reached the dais, the mare bowed her head in respect.

"Thank you for seeing us, princess. Though it shames me to make a request of you before we state our business or even our names, may I ask that we be allowed to speak in privacy?"

"Of course," Celestia said with a nod. At her command, the guards quickly marched from the room.

Well, that was the easy part. She looked over to Spike and Twilight. Both were staring at the mysterious mare and her group. Celestia could see the curiosity in their eyes, and knew that it would be quite a chore to evict them. What she needed was a way to get them to leave of their own volition. Something that would occupy their attention, keep them from eavesdropping. Something like…

She grinned down at them mischievously. "Alright, you two. I'll bring you along for the trip to Cloudsdale."

"That is," she said, interrupting their cheers. "If Twilight can fully learn how to cast the spell that will allow you both to walk and stand on clouds." Tearing a small piece away from one of the reports, she penned out a small note that she handed to the purple unicorn.

"When you get to the library, this is the shelf and scroll number where the spell can be found. It is not exceptionally difficult, but it will take a great deal of practice to sustain it for an entire day. Spike, I expect you to assist Twilight in both learning and perfecting it. Any questions?"

The two shook their heads.

"Then off you go," Celestia said. "And good luck."

Spike leapt onto Twilight's back. "Okay! We'll get this figured out no problem. Right Twi?"

"You got it," the unicorn said with confidence, and then the two were galloping out of the throne room.

Closing the doors behind them, She turned back to her guests. "Now then, I've done as you asked. Are you ready to explain what business you have with me?"

"Almost," the mare replied. "But I do have one final condition. Will you create a barrier around this room to ensure that nopony happens to walk in on us or listen in from the hall?"

Celestia's smile never wavered, but inwardly the princess was becoming unsettled. "This must be a very important matter indeed, if you are taking such pains to keep it a secret."

"Please, your majesty," the unicorn insisted. "When you know of our reasons, you will see that it is best kept between us. This is for the safety of your people as well as my own."

Something was wrong with this situation, but she couldn't put her hoof on it. Nevertheless, she closed her eyes and focused. Her horn glowed softly, and then every inch of the room was coated with the same blue light. Even the windows had been turned opaque by her magic.

"Thank you," the unicorn said. Turning back to the other members of the group, she let out a shaky breath and nodded her head. She turned back to Celestia, and the entire group vanished in a flash of green light.

What emerged was a crowd of nearly identical figures, their coats an ebony black, eyes a vibrant teal. She could see fangs protruding from their upper lips, and horns growing from their foreheads. Strangest of all were the holes in their legs and the insect-like wings that seemed to buzz nervously.

Celestia was already leaping to her hooves, legs braced to charge and horn alight. Her mind was racing. She knew what they were. Changelings, creatures that fed off of emotion and could change shape at will. But why were they here? Had they come for her ponies?

A chill ran up her spine. Of course, why else would they try to speak with her alone and then ask her to seal the room? No doubt they wanted to subdue her first, allowing the rest of the horde to descend upon a helpless Canterlot. Well, she wasn't going down that easily.

Lightning crackled around her horn as she charged a spell.

The lead changeling threw herself to the floor, hooves spread in a gesture of supplication. Those behind her quickly followed suit.

"Celestia, please hear me out! I know how this looks, but I swear our intentions are peaceful!"

The alicorn paused, sparks still flying from her horn. Every instinct was telling her to blast away. She managed to resist the urge. "Then explain yourselves," she said, a bit more harshly than necessary.

The changeling winced, but lifted her head. "I apologize for deceiving you, but I knew that your people would be alarmed if we had approached in our true forms. I also knew that a message requesting you meet us outside the city would seem far too suspicious."

"So instead you chose to lie, impersonate my subjects and trick me into meeting with you," Celestia said frostily. The light around her horn was growing brighter.

"I am truly sorry," the changeling said. "But it was vital that I speak with you. I… that is… we need your help."

"My help," she said, genuinely surprised. "And what makes you think that I would offer it to mere strangers?"

"Strangers? But you helped me before. Don't you remember?"

Celestia was perplexed. She could not recall ever having aided one of the changeling hives. Each was essentially its own independent nation, and she had neither visited one nor housed any… wait…

The glow surrounding her horn faded, and she stepped carefully down from the dais and approached the still bowing changelings. As she neared, the leader lifted her head. Half of her face was covered by mane, and Celestia leaned down and peer closer.

The princess gasped as she realized that yes, she did recognize her.

"Chrysalis," she breathed out.

_Seeing her again unleashed a torrent of memories. It had been many years ago, less than two centuries after the date of Luna's exile when Chrysalis had first stumbled into Equestria. Half-starved and alone, she had blended into a number of pony settlements, feeding as much as she dared before fleeing prior to discovery._

_Her true nature was discovered only a handful of times, but even that was enough. Soon, tales of her spread throughout Equestria. Foals were warned to never venture out at night lest they be spirited off, townsponies were cautioned to be on the lookout for strange new visitors that might be a predator in disguise._

_Eventually, the stories of a shape-shifting black alicorn reached even Canterlot, and Celestia had taken action. Recognizing a pattern to the attacks, she garrisoned each surrounding town with a full company of soldiers, instructing them to keep watch for any new arrivals or suspicious behavior. In time, their patience was reward, and Chrysalis was quickly captured and brought to the princess._

_Based on the rumors, Celestia had expected a monster, some conniving and depraved villain. It was to her great surprise when the prisoner was revealed to be a child, still in transition from adolescence to adulthood, her crimes due to desperation instead of malice. Celestia found herself intrigued, and foregoing punishment, elected to have Chrysalis explain her actions._

_The changeling's story had been a grim one. Her native hive had grown too large, and in traditional fashion, she and several other fledgling queens were sent out to create hives of their own. Given no directions and only a small retinue of adults to assist with repopulation, they were thrown headlong into the unfamiliar world. It was a dangerous, often suicidal task, as many would succumb to the elements or starve before they could locate a viable source of nourishment._

_And now, long separated from her companions, captive and at the mercy of a foreign nation, it seemed she would meet a similar fate._

_But Celestia had been moved by her plight, and seeing more than a bit of Luna in the frightened young ruler, showed mercy. Welcoming the girl into her home, she volunteered her own emotions as sustenance for Chrysalis to rebuild her strength, even sent her troops out to locate and rescue those changelings still lost in the winter storms._

_For just over a year, their small group inhabited Canterlot Castle in secret, true identities known only to Celestia and a few of her most trusted guards._

_Not that this gesture was completely altruistic. The experience had given Celestia valuable insight into the nature of the changeling race. She had learned a great deal about their family and social structures, their shape-shifting abilities, even their feeding habits. She had been shocked to learn that they were fully capable of mating and even breeding with ponies. She had been surprised to discover that, upon reaching a certain population they could fully survive off their own hive's emotions._

_And in time, she grew to care for Chrysalis as if the queen were a member of her own family._

_Shortly after the first children were born, Chrysalis had determined their group ready to leave. Tearfully, the two friends and rulers said their goodbyes, both promising to meet again one day, yet neither expecting it to truly occur._

But now, here she was once again. She had grown up beautifully, now looking every inch a proud and noble queen. Pulling the surprised changeling to her hooves, Celestia laughed and threw both forelegs around Chrysalis' neck.

"It is you," she exclaimed, ignoring the familiar prickling sensation that was spreading out from her chest. Slowly, almost timidly, the changeling returned her embrace.

Celestia pulled away and shook her head. "I cannot believe I didn't recognize you at first," she said.

Chrysalis chuckled weakly. "Well, it HAS been close to eight-hundred years. And I would have sent word ahead that we were coming… but I'm afraid there just wasn't time." She reached up and adjusted the section of mane hiding her face.

Something about the gesture made Celestia pause. "Is something wrong," she finally asked, the mirth leaving her voice. "At first you mentioned requiring my help, and now you make it sound as though time is of the essence. Has… something happened to your hive?"

The changeling queen flinched harshly, and Celestia could see the morose expressions on the rest of her group. Now convinced that something was terribly wrong, she studied them closer.

Her eyes squinted. There was some kind of marking on their coats, though it was difficult to see. She gasped. Were those… BURNS?

Composing herself, Chrysalis lifted a hoof and pushed her mane away. Previously hidden, a ruined and empty socket lay where he right eye had been.

"Our hive is gone," she said. "Burned to the ground… by something that looked like one of your ponies."

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Eh, not the best spot for an ending I know, but the next adequate closing point would have put this chapter over 20k words, and I don't think anyone wants that. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and that this portrayal of Chrysalis isn't overly dissatisfying.

See you all in chapter 11!


	11. The Queen's Gambit

Finally. Between working on the other two stories and rewriting the flashbacks about five times, this update was delayed way more than it should have been. Apologies to all those who waited.

Chapter 11- The Queen's Gambit

.

'_Saith He is terrible:_

_watch His feats in proof!_

_Robert Browning- Caliban upon Setebos_

_._

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It was not often that Celestia was left speechless. Millennia of political maneuvering, diplomatic snafus, and all manner of life's oddities had enabled her to create a nearly unflappable persona. In the rare moments when she was truly caught off-guard, she had little difficulty in keeping her emotions hidden.

But now she was left completely stunned. Her mouth unable to form words, her mind barely able to form thoughts. All she could do was take in the ghastly sight of Chrysalis' wounds, no matter how much she wished to tear her eyes away. It was difficult, almost impossible to imagine what could have turned the shy, demure girl that she knew into the battered and burned mare standing before her. It filled Celestia with anger and disgust towards whomever had done this.

Chrysalis wilted under the alicorn's gaze, ducking her head and hurriedly moving her mane back over the damaged eye. A gentle hoof under the chin made her pause.

"Please don't," Celestia said. "You've nothing to be ashamed of."

The changeling grimaced. "How can you say that? I must look pathetic. The first time you found me I was more like a starving animal. You saved me, mentored me, gave me a future, and for what? For me to come crawling back to your hooves after a measly eight-hundred years, with nothing to show but an even greater number of subjects whom I've failed?"

"Hush now," she chided. "I'll not have anypony demeaning you so, not even yourself. Despite all the years apart, I still treasure you as a friend. Something like this will not make me think any less of you."

Chrysalis seemed unconvinced, but managed a tiny smile.

Turning her attention to the other changelings, Celestia motioned to the door. "I believe that your queen and I have much to discuss. Would you be so kind as to recreate your disguises and leave us for a moment?"

The group shared an uneasy look, and Celestia got the feeling that they were more than a bit uncomfortable with the thought of leaving their ruler's side.

Chrysalis turned back to reassure them. "Do as she says; I assure you that I am in perfectly safe hooves."

"Actually," she trailed off as a thought seemed to form. "Celestia, would you permit them to visit the castle doctors? You can see that our ordeal has taken its toll on them as well."

"Certainly," the princess agreed. "Speak to the guards at the door, and they will be glad to lead the way. And while you are there, please ask if they can recommend and summon any unicorn surgeons specializing in ocular regeneration."

Chrysalis threw her a startled look, and she nodded in reassurance. "I cannot guarantee that your vision will return, but we can at least repair the damage."

Voicing their gratitude, the changelings transformed in another flash of green light. When the doors closed behind them, Celestia locked them with a quick burst of magic and ushered Chrysalis to a side-lounge where she could rest. Upon reaching their destination, Chrysalis flopped gracelessly onto the cushions, letting out an audible groan of relief. Seating herself in a much more dignified manner, Celestia gave her friend a few minutes to rest before turning back to the matter at hoof.

Well, she tried to. After voicing several unanswered questions, she realized that the young queen must have immediately fallen asleep. Her initial reaction was to simply leave her be, goodness knows it looked like she needed the rest. But Celestia's practical side knew that she had to be informed about whatever tragedy had taken place. So with more than a bit of guilt, she reached over and gently shook the changeling awake.

Chrysalis lifted her head, blearily focusing on the alicorn. "I'm sorry, Chryssie," she said gently. "I know you must be tired, but I need you to tell me what happened. Please, I promise that you'll be able to rest soon."

When she was certain that the changeling wouldn't nod off again, she tried to approach the subject. "You said that your hive was attacked. Destroyed entirely."

Chrysalis nodded, but offered no other response. Celestia paused, unsure of how to proceed.

"How many survived," she finally asked, hoping that her friend had not lost her people along with their home.

"We were… there were close to seven-hundred of us after we fled the hive, though a few succumbed to their wounds with each passing day. But most of my people died as our hive burned. And while I escaped, many of my soldiers did not." She gave a bitter chuckle. "I suppose I should be grateful, really. If that unicorn hadn't been so… fixated upon me, I imagine he would have easily slaughtered us all."

Celestia leaned forward, anxious to hear of this assailant and the threat he might pose. "Then this unicorn was the one to lead the attack? And what of his accomplices, or comrades? Were they bandits, some mercenary army? What grievance did they have with you?"

Chrysalis shook her head. "He had none, at least none that were involved. I know it must seem absurd, but our near eradication was all the work of a lone stallion."

She was right; it did sound absurd. Scratch that, it sounded downright impossible! At full strength, she and Chrysalis would be evenly matched. In fact, with the variable nature of a changeling's power, she had the potential to surpass Celestia herself. But even if she were not at peak condition, it was hard to imagine the queen being overcome by a mere unicorn… and in her own home, no less! Celestia knew that even she would be hard-pressed to fight off an entire changeling hive, even if their queen was somehow removed from the equation.

She knew that Chrysalis wouldn't lie to her, knew that the exhaustion and the wounds and the burns were no deception, but it was too much to be believed.

"And this was done by one of my MY people," she asked, unable to keep the incredulousness from her voice.

The queen shuddered. "I… I don't think so. I mean, it certainly LOOKED like one." She looked up and gave a wry smirk. "Considering our nature, we changelings are quite skilled at seeing through any form of disguise. But I couldn't detect an illusion or magical transformation about him. He truly seemed to be a pony."

Her hoof slowly lifted towards her eye, only for her to pause and place it back on the cushions. "But he couldn't have been one of you. Not with the things he did."

Celestia reached out and took Chrysalis' hoof between her own. "I know it must be terrible to remember, but will you tell me of the attack? From the moment you laid eyes on this stallion? If I'm to help, I'll need to know everything."

The changeling nodded, her brow furrowing as she fell into thought. "It was just over a week ago," she said at last. "A scout came bursting into my throne room, so excited he could barely stand still. I don't even think he realized that he'd interrupted a meeting between my advisors. He looked just like a colt in a candy store."

She was smiling, her eyes half-lidded and focusing on the memory. "He said that his patrol had found a visitor to our territory. A pony, of all things." She turned to Celestia and chuckled fondly. "None of my subjects had ever met a pony, of course, but they grew up hearing stories passed down from their parents and grandparents about a wonderful race that saved their queen from death and aided her in creating their kingdom. Your people had gained an almost mythical status."

The smile vanished as her voice softened. "Of course, word had spread rapidly around the hive, and soon everyone was ecstatically begging to meet him. I was wary, however. Not because I feared him, but because I did not want him to fear us. Imagine my surprise when the scout informed me that the pony seemed to have no fear of our kind. Instead, he seemed just as excited to meet us."

Chrysalis swallowed thickly. "In hindsight, that should have been my first warning that something was wrong. Instead, it brought only relief. And like a fool, I ordered him brought before me."

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_She rested easy on her throne, chin placed on a hoof as she watched the large tunnel that served as an entrance to the hall. All around her, changelings milled about in tense anticipation. They were packed tightly together, with several hovering in the air for lack of space. Whispers filled the air, questions and theories about their newest celebrity. What would it look like? Sound like? What brought it to their home?_

_Though she remained outwardly calm, Chrysalis was just as excited as the rest. This would be the first time in so many years that she'd meet an Equestrian, and there was so much she wanted to ask. She hoped that maybe this would be the first visit of many._

_She perked up at the sound of hooves from down the tunnel. The whispers ceased, changelings jostling one another as they sought a better view._

_Two of her soldiers appeared, giving a crisp salute before moving to stand at attention. Behind them, a black-coated figure stepped into view._

_The crowd drew in a collective breath, and Chrysalis felt a drastic change in their emotions. There was curiosity and wonder, but above all else, desire permeated the room._

_It was easy to see why._

_The stallion was lean, yet powerfully built, with muscles visible across his back and legs. His fur appeared almost velvety, and his mane was tousled in an unkempt, yet roguish way. His face was undeniably handsome, even regal. The bright gleam of his eyes reminded her of molten silver, though there was a cold glint in them that she couldn't place._

_There were a number of wistful sighs. She didn't even need to sense emotions to see that a great number of her people had become instantly smitten. Well, that's what happens when you belong to a race so idolized and romanticized. How many of them, she wondered, were imagining their favorite childhood stories, picturing themselves as the protagonists with this stallion as their romantic lead?_

_She could see some of the closer changelings leaning in to try and catch a taste of his life force, and she realized that she'd best restore order before the poor thing was mobbed by lovesick admirers. She quickly rose to her hooves and gave the floor a hard stamp. Recognizing the signal, the crowd drew back to allow him to approach._

_He walked up to her throne, his gait steady and unhurried. There was an easy smile on his lips, and she could sense the confidence within him. If he was unnerved, he was very good at hiding it._

"_Hail, traveler," she said warmly, stepping down to meet him. "I am Chrysalis, matriarch of this colony and queen of its changelings. On behalf of my people, I welcome you."_

_The unicorn gave a low, sweeping bow. "Thank you, your highness. I am honored by your kindness." Reaching out, he scooped up her foreleg and placed a light kiss on her hoof._

_She sucked in a breath at the contact, getting the first brief taste of his life force. It was strong, very strong, and it left her hoof buzzing as though from a jolt of electricity. After a moment, she realized that the stallion had been speaking._

"_I apologize, but what were you saying," she asked in embarrassment._

_He chuckled. "I was merely introducing myself. I am known as Coldharbour, and I am at your service."_

_It was an odd name, but then again, everything about this stallion was far from ordinary. Out of habit, she tried to sense his emotions, only to find nothing more than the outwardly shown civility. Somehow he was hiding his feelings from her._

"_Coldharbour," she repeated loudly enough for all the room to hear. "It is a true pleasure to meet you, the first of any pony to visit our hive. It is my sincere hope that you will not be the last."_

_A cheer rose up through the room, and the stallion ducked his head bashfully at the attention. She waited for the noise to subside. "As you can see, my people are quite eager to make your acquaintance as well. I hope you'll not think me too forward in suggesting that you stay as our guest for a time?"_

"_I'm flattered by your offer, truly." A pensive look crossed his face. "Though I'm not exactly used to being received with such excitement."_

_She laughed. "Do forgive my subjects. I'm sure the enthrallment won't last more than a week."_

_The pony's expression soured for a moment, though his tone never wavered. "I don't think I'll be able to stay quite that long. Beautiful as your hive is, wonderful as your people seem, I must return to my own country with all haste."_

"_By all means, if that's what you prefer," she said, hurrying to placate him. "A few days perhaps, to regain your strength, and then I can personally escort you back to Equestria's border."_

_His eyes lit up at her offer, and she finally detected slight hints of emotions breaking through his façade. She sensed relief and eagerness as well._

"_I would be eternally grateful, your highness." An embarrassed smile, clearly fake, crossed his features. "Until I found your hive, I feared I'd be lost forever."_

_Something wasn't right. His mannerisms were clashing horribly with the traces of emotion she could detect. It was like he was trying to make himself more pitiable, but why? She'd already offered to aid him, what more could he be worried about?_

"_And how did you become lost," she inquired. Whatever was going on, she was getting to the bottom of it. "For that matter, what business even took you this far from home?"_

"_I was part of a settlement in buffalo territory," he said. "They appointed me the task of establishing diplomatic relations with the neighboring tribes. I was trailing one of their stampedes, however it was some time before they settled in for the night and I was able to catch up. After our meeting concluded, I realized that I had completely lost my bearings. Thankfully, I befriended a female calf during my time there. She gave me directions to this hive, stating that you might be able to help."_

_Chrysalis was an excellent liar. Subterfuge, after all, was a necessary survival skill amongst her kind. Even so, she had to admit that Coldharbour was very good at deceit. His delivery had been flawless, not a bit of hesitation as he lied right to her face. If she had been anyone else, she would have found his story perfectly sensible._

_Except that there was no settlement in buffalo territory, only a mapped site wherein the first shovel had yet to break ground. So how did this mysterious stallion get here? And for that matter, why?_

_She tried reading his feelings again, only to find that them fully suppressed. She decided to take the offensive. "Would you prefer us to return you to this settlement? I'm certain it would be a shorter trip than to Equestria."_

_Coldharbour gave a thin, brief smile. "I imagine you're right. But as I said, I don't know how to find it."_

"_That won't be a problem." She nodded to the changelings behind her. "I can merely send a group of my scouts to search from the air. They are quite skilled at such matters."_

"_I'm certain they are, but I would prefer if you take me to my home country," he insisted, and Chrysalis heard an edge in his tone._

_She wondered about the vagueness of his answers. 'A settlement,' 'my own country.' She puzzled over those words, wondering why he chose not to use the names. Then it came to her. Perhaps he couldn't? Perhaps he simply didn't know._

_She looked him over, the evidence running through her head. Lying about his business here, an uncertainty in which direction to travel, a defensiveness when questioned._

_Was he a spy? Perhaps the agent of some foreign pony nation? Or maybe a shapeshifter, changeling or otherwise, impersonating a pony for reasons known only to him?_

"_As you wish." She decided to press him on a different subject. "So tell me, then, where in Equestria will you be returning?"_

"_The capitol city."_

_Chrysalis gave a delighted gasp. "The capitol! Why then, you must be a Canterlot pony, yes?"_

"_That's right."_

"_I thought so," she said, still smiling. "What an amazing coincidence! I know Canterlot!"_

_And there it was: A tiny, almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw. But he returned her smile unflinchingly._

_She looked over his head, gaze locking with one of her soldiers lounging by the entrance. The changeling straightened up immediately, and she gestured towards their guest with her eyes. Nodding, the soldier beckoned to his subordinates, and they slowly began making their way through the crowd._

"_A wonderful city," she continued. "Grand architecture and wonderful residents. Truly regal. You don't see the pompous, self-absorbed types as often as in Manehattan." She trailed off, seemingly lost in thought while she tried to think of a way to test him._

"_And of course, the view was always spectacular. I remember the towers in Canterlot. The way they jutted out from the mountainside, so high you could touch the clouds. Breathtaking, wouldn't you say?"_

_He nodded indulgently. "Very much so. But I'm afraid I don't exactly share your fondness of them. A unicorn like myself tends to be rather… skittish about heights."_

"_That is unfortunate. Still, a wonderful city. I do miss it so, especially the changing of the seasons. It must be wonderful to wrap-up winter each year, aiding the earth and pegasus ponies in heralding in the spring?"_

"_I'm afraid you're mistaken," he said brusquely. "There is no such tradition in Canterlot."_

_He knew what she was doing. Must've caught the skepticism in her tone, or the way she evaluated his answers. Still, both his responses seemed valid enough. Perhaps he was just a rather forgetful pony who truly was lost?_

"_Well, perhaps I am mistaken," Chrysalis said with a shrug. "It has been a very long time since I was there last." She smiled down at him, deciding to try one more time. This time, with one that no real Equestrian could possibly get wrong._

"_But I must apologize. Just look at me, reminiscing like a fool while you're eager to return home. Just give me a bit to set things in order, and then we can be off."_

_As Coldharbour bowed his head in thanks, she looked out over the crowd and put a hoof to her lips._

"_And when you return, will you do something for me?"_

"_Of course," he replied._

"_Give my regards to Princess Luna," she said with a smile. "Tell her that I miss her and wish her the best."_

_The assembled changelings looked to one another in confusion, but Coldharbour merely nodded. "I will give her your message, and I am certain she will be pleased to hear from you."_

'_Wrong answer, you little bastard,' she thought to herself, smile still in place. She waved her guards over, surreptitiously directing them to surround the unicorn. Whatever he was, she wasn't letting him set hoof in Equestria._

_As her guards moved in and the crowd stepped back, Chrysalis tried to determine how best to take him down. Spells were out of the question; the chance of injuring her subjects was too great. Having her guards simply dog-pile him might suffice, though it was a bit crude for her tastes. Or maybe she… yes, yes that would do nicely._

"_Oh, Coldharbour? There is one last matter before we set off." She gave him a playful smirk. "And that is how you'll be repaying me for this favor."_

_The unicorn grinned back. "An excellent point. It would be terribly improper of me to ask a queen such as yourself to work free of charge. But what can a poor, humble stallion like myself have to offer?"_

_He was making this too easy. "You probably don't know this, but we changelings feed on emotions. While the creature's life-force is what sustains us, their feelings are what create the flavors that we crave."_

_Most ponies would be shocked, frightened, or even disgusted by this information. But Coldharbour merely took a curious glance around the room._

"_I see…then is that why your subjects crowded around me when I arrived," he asked._

"_Exactly. As a stranger to our hive, your emotions are new and unique to us. An almost irresistible delicacy."_

"_So I imagine this payment will involve you… sampling me?"_

"_I think it a fair trade," she said with a flippant wave of her hoof. "Just a small taste, and then we'll guide you to Equestria, safe and sound."_

_His gaze lowered, obviously thinking it over. After a time, he looked up, his face apprehensive._

"_I… believe I can live with that. How do you plan to extract this payment?"_

_She leaned down until their muzzles were almost touching. "Oh, a simple kiss will suffice."_

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

Chrysalis trailed off, and it was easy to see that she was trying to ready herself for whatever came next.

Celestia knew it would be painful to remember, and even worse to describe. But maybe there was a way to make things a bit easier. Reaching out, she placed a hoof against the changeling's shoulder, waiting until she felt the tingle of her energy being siphoned. Ignoring the look of confusion thrown her way, she closed her eyes and concentrated on as many positive memories as she could: growing up with Luna, Spike's first words, nightly runs to Pony Joe's for donuts. She pushed all the happiness and warmth she could manage through their link until she felt Chrysalis sag under her hoof. Opening her eyes, she was pleased to see the changeling queen slumped forwards, a drunken grin on her face.

Chrysalis looked up at her, move opening to speak… and promptly fell muzzle-first into the carpet.

"Chrysalis?! Are you alright," Celestia gasped. Her only response was a muffled snore. This time, no amount of shaking or speech could rouse her from slumber.

The alicorn shook her head, chuckling. 'Perhaps I overdid it,' she thought. 'Then again, she's probably been completely exhausted since this ordeal began. Neglecting sleep or food, running on nothing but willpower in trying to reach me.'

Gently lifting her with magic, Celestia placed the queen back on one of the couches. Chrysalis mumbled something in her sleep and immediately nuzzled into the cushions.

Celestia smiled down at her fondly. 'Still the same headstrong girl I remember.' Well, it looked as though she had some time to spare. At least she could make use of this time to assist the other changelings. Quietly departing, she pushed open the doors to the throne room and beckoned a guard inside.

"Do you recall the ponies that requested an audience with me just over two hours ago," she asked.

The stallion balked. "I do not, your majesty. I only just relieved the previous guard on duty, and she made no mention of any such events."

"No matter. All you need to know is that there is a large group of refugees somewhere outside the city," she explained. "A small group recently arrived to inform me of their plight."

She nodded towards the lounge. "I am currently meeting with their leader. Her escorts, however, are being treated in the castle infirmary. My task for you is to speak with them, and then act upon the information you receive."

"Of course," the stallion said. "What would you have me ask them?"

Celestia thought for a moment. "Anything you can about the state of their people. Their exact location and their best estimate of numbers. The percentages of healthy adults, children and elders if they know it. All the details they can provide about injuries, both numbers and severity. Do you understand?"

He nodded. "Perfectly. And what shall I do once I've obtained this information? Return to you?"

"No. You will immediately begin preparing to assist the main group." She turned to a side table and unrolled a sheet of parchment.

She penned out a quick note. "I want you to take this message to General Ryegate. He is to create a battalion-strength task force for the express purpose of aiding and protecting these refugees. Ensure that your information about them is as accurate as possible, so that the general can determine the extent of the supplies we will be providing."

"Also make it known that they are to establish a defensive perimeter around the group. I want sentries keeping watch 'round the clock, as attentive as if I were the one being guarded. Is that clear?"

"It will be done," he said as he took the scroll. "And should the question be posed, how long will this task force be rendering aid?"

"A full week, at the very latest."

"Yes, your majesty." The pegasus gave a salute and quickly galloped down the hall.

Celestia glanced back to where Chyrsalis slept. She and her people were safe for the moment, but the greater issue was what would become of them now? Obviously they would need to create another hive at some point in the future, as well as repopulate their numbers.

But could they manage it? From what she had learned of their race, she knew that changeling young required a significantly high amount of energy in their diets. They also generated far less than adults. Depending on the age ratio, it was likely their group would be unable to sustain itself. They would need help, somehow.

And she had a sneaking suspicion of how Chrysalis hoped to obtain that help. After all, Celestia had sheltered her before.

She closed her eyes, thoughts grim as she considered how best to refuse her friend's inevitable plea. She just couldn't do it. Not now, not when Luna's return was just on the horizon. With all the chaos, the violence that would follow, the last thing she wanted was more innocent lives in her care and on her conscience. Harboring the changelings would only put them right in… the middle…

Her head snapped up, an idea forming in her mind. It was risky, and it would require an unsurpassed level of secrecy. She would have to endanger and deceive her entire kingdom, not to mention putting all of Chrysalis' subjects in harm's way. But it had the potential to save hundreds of lives, to counter Nightmare Moon's greatest advantage.

But she was getting ahead of herself. First she needed to hear the rest of Chrysalis' story. This Coldharbour was obviously a dangerous creature, and if he presented a threat to the kingdom, it was her duty to be as informed as possible.

She re-entered the lounge; Chrysalis lay exactly as she'd left her. She reached a hoof down to rouse her. It was a needless gesture, however, as a very loud crash echoed from down the hall and did the job for her. Chrysalis started awake and leapt straight to her hooves, eyes darting around the room wildly.

"What's… huh?"

Celestia smiled apologetically. "I was about to wake you, but it seems somepony beat me to the punch."

"I… fell asleep? How long," Chrysalis asked in embarrassment.

"No more than an hour. It's fine, truly. You looked as though you could use the rest."

"I won't argue there." Sliding off the couch, she stretched out her hooves. "Though I'm still sorry to have kept you waiting. I imagine you're quite ready for us to continue?"

Celestia was about to respond when another crash came from the hallway, though this one sounded much closer. After a moment, the faint sound of voices reached them, sounding as if they were arguing.

"…Perhaps we ought to wait until it quiets down," she suggested.

"Spike, get away from there right now," somepony yelled from just outside the door. "Celestia is in an important meeting and we can't disturb her!"

"Aww, come on! I barge in to these things all the time, and she doesn't mind."

"I said no!"

The voices drew closer, and there was a muffled thud at the door before the handle began rattling.

"Ow! Hey, let go!"

A flash of light appeared beneath the door along with the various growls and grunts of two children wrestling around. There were muffled yells, more thuds against the wall, and finally a loud crash as some priceless artifact shattered.

Celestia groaned and put a hoof to her forehead. What was she going to do with those two?

"Or maybe it would be best to allow them in," Chrysalis said. "I think it would be less of a distraction than if you allowed them to continue this argument."

She gave Chrysalis a sour grin. "Are you sure about that? I can guarantee that both of these children will talk your ear off if given half the chance."

The changeling laughed. "Quite sure. You might act upset about this little interruption, but I felt a great deal of affection in your emotions when their voices became clear. I believe I would enjoy meeting anyone you hold in such regard."

"Then allow me to introduce them… and don't say I didn't warn you," she said in a singsong tone.

"TWILIGHT SPARKLE," a voice yelled from outside. It was obviously trying to be intimidating, but failed miserably. "WE COMMAND THEE TO RELEASE US THIS INSTANT!"

"Hah! Nice try Spike, but your Royal Canterlot voice still needs a lot of work."

"No fair, you have to obey me when I do that! I could throw you in the dungeons for this!"

"I don't think so! The princess put me in charge for today. That means I can throw YOU in the dungeon."

"Can not!"

"Can so!"

Celestia threw open the doors with her magic. Two struggling figures levitated inside, each glaring at the other. She cleared her throat, and both children snapped out of their staring contest.

She never got a chance to speak before she was bombarded with greetings, apologies, excuses and accusations. Twilight was trying to explain their sudden intrusion, Spike was refuting every word she said, and the sheer amount of noise was giving Celestia a splitting headache.

"**QUIET!"** She thundered, instantly getting Spike and Twilight's attention.

"See, that's how you do it," Twilight said, only to slap a hoof over her mouth after a stern look from the princess.

"Now," she said with a sigh. "Just what is going on here?"

"I/Spike wanted to tell you that we finished the spell," they said in unison.

Now that was a surprise. Even with their usual studiousness and the added motivation of accompanying her, she hadn't expected this quite so soon.

'Was actually hoping that'd hold you two off until dinnertime,' she thought ruefully.

"Have you now? And you're certain it worked correctly?"

"Yep," Spike said. "It was awesome! Some of the guards brought clouds down for us, and we bounced on them like trampolines! You gotta try it."

She laughed and lowered them both to the floor. "I might just have to. And what do you think, Twilight? Do you feel confident in your ability to recast and maintain the spell?"

"Umm, I think so," she said. "That is, it worked just fine the first half dozen times I performed it. But there's still a lot of tests that might-"

"Excellent. Then I will be expecting a demonstration later." She looked behind her to motion Chrysalis forward, only to freeze in realization. Three pairs of eyes stared at a still undisguised changeling.

Thankfully, neither Spike nor Twilight looked especially perturbed at her appearance. Spike's expression was one of simple curiosity, while Twilight's was equal parts awe and barely-contained excitement. And strangely enough, Chrysalis was staring right back. Her expression was puzzling though. It looked almost… frightened.

Decided that the damage had been done, she stepped between her son and student. "Chrysalis, I would like to introduce you to two individuals that hold a very special place in my heart. This," she said, resting a hoof on Twilight's back. "Is Twilight Sparkle, my most faithful student."

The unicorn gave a polite bow. "It's very nice to meet you, Miss Chrysalis. I hope Spike I didn't interrupt your conversation." It was easy to tell that there was much, much more she wanted to say, but it looked as if she was holding her tongue out of decorum.

Pleased with Twilight's restraint, she leaned over to affectionately ruffle the dragon's spines. "And this handsome little drake is my dearest son, Spike."

Spike's bow was a tad clumsier. "Um, hello. It's nice to meet you. Since you're friends with my mom, I hope that we can be friends too."

A few moments passed before their words registered. Chrysalis quickly returned their bows, trying not to let her anxiety show. "A pleasure to meet you as well, Twilight. And you, Alduin."

Spike tilted his head at her in confusion. "What'd you call me?"

She gasped and stepped back. "I… I'm sorry, Spike. I must have mixed up your name with someone else. I've never met a dragon before, and I suppose you caught me a bit off guard."

"Aww, that's alright. It sounded kinda cool. I've never met a pony like you either!"

Though her hesitance remained, Chrysalis relaxed slightly at Spike's friendliness. "That's because I'm not a pony at all," she said as if divulging some great secret.

Both Spike and Twilight leaned forward expectantly as she told them about her race. Celestia was pleased to see that neither one minded the markedly different lifestyle or feeding habits.

"Wow," Twilight said. "That sounds amazing! There's so much I want to ask you! Oh! I bet I could write a report about it! And maybe the report could be published and put in libraries and I could become the foremost expert on changelings and-"

Chrysalis laughed and put a hoof to Twilight's mouth. "I'd be happy to speak to you later if we have the time. But right now your mentor and I have some things left to discuss, and I believe you both wanted to demonstrate a spell for her?"

Spike looked up at her gleefully. "Can we mom, please? We really wanted to show you that spell! We worked hard on it."

Chrysalis nodded. "I think that's an excellent idea. We could kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. Not to mention a bit of fresh air would be appreciated after staying in this room for so long."

Celestia gave a practiced smile and lifted Spike onto her back. Before they could leave the room, though, she cast a look back at the queen.

"I think it best if you resumed your disguise. These two might not take issue with your identity, but who's to say what other ponies will think?"

Quickly agreeing, Chrysalis changed back into a pony in a flash of green light. Twilight gave an ecstatic squeal and raced up to inspect her new form. Reaching out, she delicately poked the changeling in the leg where a hole should have been."

"Wow! It's not an illusion at all!" She beamed up at the amused mare. "It's a fully tactile transformation. Amazing."

Chrysalis rolled her eyes. "She reminds me of you when we first met," she deadpanned to Celestia. "The entire village wanted to burn me at the stake, and all you could do was ask question after question."

Any further tension in the room vanished as the two friends shared a laugh at the memory. Beckoning the others to follow, Celestia lead them through the palace hallways and out into the statue garden, where several pegasus guards awaited them.

Once they reached their destination, Spike eagerly slid off her back and rushed over to Twilight. "Alright mom, are you ready?"

"I'm ready, Spike," she called back.

The two moved to an open area of the gardens, obviously anxious to get started. Twilight's horn glowed softly, and soon they were covered in an aura of light. The aura vanished after a few seconds, but Celestia could detect the magic still holding strong in both of their bodies. Spike signaled to one of the guards, and the stallion flew up into the air and retrieved several white, puffy clouds.

Spike looked back to make sure they were watching, and she waved reassuringly. She only turned away after he and Twilight had clambered up onto the cloud and she was certain they were in no danger of falling.

Chrysalis was beaming at her. "I'm so happy for you. I remember that you always wanted a child of your own. And now, I don't think I've ever felt such contentment from you."

"He's everything I'd hoped for," she mused, and they sat together for a time. But as she watched, Celestia seemed to be thinking about something. "When I was making introductions, you seemed uneasy. And then you called Spike a different name. Alurin, was it?"

The changeling's eyes lowered. "Alduin. That was what I called him. I didn't mean to use it, it just happened to slip out."

"But why use that name at all? What does it mean?"

"I don't know. But that's what he called him."

"Who called him that?"

"Coldharbour," she said. "I didn't recognize them when I first came in. But after you introduced us, I remembered."

"He mentioned Spike," Celestia asked worriedly.

Chrysalis nodded. "Twilight as well. Well... in a way."

"Then that was why you looked so shocked to see them?"

"Yes. I think… I think he's looking for them."

Celestia felt as if she'd taken a kick to the stomach. "What? But why? And how do you know this?"

"After I tried to stop him, he did something to me. I'm not certain, but I believe he was reading my mind, trying to learn how to find Equestria. But at the end, I managed to see into his for a moment. That's where I saw them both."

Celestia looked back to where Spike and Twilight were leaping from cloud to cloud in a game of tag. She smiled at their antics, though it no longer reached her eyes. "Tell me everything."

* * *

><p>.<p>

_Coldharbour leaned back, his resolve seeming to falter. "Don't be so nervous," she chided. "It's just a little taste. You won't even feel it."_

_It was a barefaced lie, of course. Once the link was created, she had every intention of drawing as much of his life-force as physically possible. And as soon as he was unconscious, she'd send a message to Celestia about the rat in pony's clothing that was trying to sneak into her kingdom._

"_Alright," he whispered. "I'm ready." His eyes clenched shut._

_With a triumphant smile, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. The first tiny prickles of energy flowed into her, and she couldn't help but pride herself in so easily outmaneuvering this spy._

_But then she felt his mouth turn upwards in a sneer; she realized that she'd walked into a trap. The mental block around his emotions shattered, and his energy rushed into her in a deluge._

_It surged through her like a thunderbolt, causing her entire body to go rigid. His energy was overwhelming. That kiss to her hoof had been a shock; this was an electrocution. Every muscle stretched and tightened, growing tauter and tauter until they felt as though they'd snap at any moment. Her mouth filled with searing pain. It hurt worse than fire, worse than acid. It swept down her throat and into her lungs, cutting off air, choking her as it burned._

_But as painful as his energy was, the newly revealed emotions were far worse._

_It was a dark and volatile cocktail of the vilest feelings imaginable. It was murderous rage and sadistic, torturous glee. It was ancient cunning, megalomaniacal conceit and cold disdain. It was the desire to rape and desecrate, to dominate and control, to subjugate all life and beauty and grind it underfoot._

_It was a foul and rotting taste, sliding over her tongue, coating her mouth with a slick and oily residue. Her stomach clenched with nausea and she tried desperately to scream, but only managed a helpless moan that was muffled by the mouth against her own._

_Chrysalis struggled to pull away, but the connection between them was like an electric current, causing her body to jerk and convulse uncontrollably. Tears ran down her face as she desperately tried to break the kiss. Her heart was pounding in her chest and black motes began to fill her vision. In a panic, she realized that if she didn't break free, she was going to die. Coldharbour wasn't about to let her go. No, he was going to hold on tight until he'd drowned her in his own poisonous life-force._

_But just before she could lose consciousness, he withdrew. His lips drew back from hers, mercifully ending the flow of energy. No longer paralyzed, her body slumped against him. She barely noticed, too busy drawing huge gulps of air into her grateful lungs. But she could still feel traces of those horrid emotions, causing her to gag and retch against his shoulder._

_A look of disgust swept over the stallion's face, and he placed a hoof to her chest and shoved fiercely, sending her toppling to the ground. A jarring pain shot through her back, and she let out a piercing scream. The crowd recoiled in shock, and her soldiers charged in._

_Coldharbour was already leaping backwards, passing over and around two of the soldiers and into the group's midst. He twisted his body to the side, driving one foreleg down and against a changeling's neck. There was a loud snap as its body tumbled to a stop. Body tucking into a roll, the unicorn kicked upwards into another soldier's chest, breaking ribs like dry twigs._

_The remaining soldiers fanned out to surround him while another tried to carry her to safety. Coldharbour never gave him the chance, rushing through the defenders and flinging her would-be rescuer into the wall with back-breaking force._

_The other changelings fled from the hall as he killed the final soldiers, voices frantically calling for help. The room was empty in moments, only the faint cries echoing down the tunnel. He ignored them, casually walking over to where she lay dazed on the floor. Moaning weakly, she managed to roll onto her stomach. She tried to crawl, but her forelegs were too weak to budge her an inch._

"_Why bother," he asked in amusement. She could just imagine the smug grin that must be adorning his face. "You're not getting away, so why make it more painful for yourself?"_

_She heard the soft clopping of hooves, and then two ebony legs appeared from the corner of her eye. She froze, almost trembling with dread._

"_Ah, there we are!" His tone was pleased, almost proud. "Isn't that better? If you're going to die, no reason to die tired."_

_One of his hooves lifted, but before he could take a step they heard something from back within the hive. A low, deep hum._

_His hoof lowered. "What's this," he murmured. His legs disappeared from view, and she guessed he was moving to get a better look down the tunnel._

_The noise was building, from a hum to a drone to a loud, angry buzz. Her heart leapt in recognition. Wings. Hundreds of wings. It seemed that her entire army was flying to the rescue._

_Ignoring the pain, she managed to prop herself up on one shoulder and look behind. She was eager to see Coldharbour's face when he found himself so heavily outnumbered. Green eyes widened in shock at the unicorn's expression. No panic. No fear. Not even mild concern. He seemed delighted, in fact._

"_What a pity; it seems I've stirred up the hornet's nest," he remarked casually. The buzzing of wings was almost deafening, but the unicorn merely lifted a hoof and examined it._

"_That just won't do. We still have so much to discuss. Suppose I'll have to kill them all."_

_Chrysalis couldn't believe her ears. Was this pony insane? Strong as he might be, there was no way one unicorn could overcome such numbers. But she saw the cruel, cold glint in his eyes and somehow knew that he could do exactly that and more._

_The first changelings burst into the hall with dozens following right behind. She could see them packed so tightly down the tunnel that there was almost no more room to fly. A cold shiver ran down her spine._

_They were easy targets._

_Coldharbour lazily pointed his hoof directly at the approaching soldiers. A terrible ripping sound split the air, and the stallion's foreleg exploded in a spray of blood and tissue._

_Something shot out of the cloud of gore, red and dripping with blood. It was an arm, even longer than Coldharbour's body. It was massive, with muscles bunched and corded like piano wires. A thick wrist widened into a hand with long, jointed fingers. They looked powerful enough to crush stone, and each was tipped with slender, razor-sharp talons._

_She watched in horror as he braced his legs and leaned far to the left, balancing as that terrible arm lifted, palm splayed. What kind of monster was he?_

_Sparks formed at the tips of his fingers, snapping and popping. More formed in his palm, grouping together into a pulsing red light._

_The blast of heat smoldered her mane and burned the skin from her cheeks. A hellish beam of fire erupted from Coldharbour's hand, lancing into and through the first changeling and several behind it. Billowing flames jetted out from the beam, engulfing those not struck by the actual attack._

_Those hit by the blast were incinerated at once, burned away to nothingness. The others burst into flame, their charred and burning bodies littering the floor. It should have been impossible above the deafening roar of superheated air, but Chrysalis swore she could hear their screams._

_The crowd of soldiers further back in the tunnel halted their charge, piling against one another as they tried to retreat from the flames._

_Ignoring the pain and the blistering heat, she managed to raise her head. "STOP IT," she screamed desperately._

_Somehow, he heard her. The jet of fire sputtered and died, though she could see wisps of flame running up and down his hand. His satisfied expression disgusted her. He had the look of a craftsman admiring his work, as though mass-murder was a simple task to be relished and perfected._

"_It didn't have to be this way," he scolded her. "All you had to do was keep your mouth shut, your suspicions to yourself, and guide me to Equestria. If you'd only behaved, I might have allowed you to live. But you seemed to realize I was not what I appeared, and took it upon yourself to try and stop me." He shook his head in disappointment._

"_And for that you've forfeited your life, just as these fools did in rushing to your aid." He kicked aside the burnt husk of a soldier and walked closer to the tunnel. Her changelings were still attempting to retreat, knowing well enough the danger that awaited._

_The hand snapped up, flames building around the fingers._

"_NO!" He ignored her cry and sent another, larger wave barreling down the tunnel. This one rushed over and through the crowd of soldiers, their bodies catching flame like dry leaves. He waited a moment, then turned and sent another blast down the next tunnel, and then the next. She watched in horror as flames spread throughout the room, and she could hear the distant screams of her subjects as the entire hive began to burn._

_Coldharbour sent one massive burst down the first tunnel, then turned back to face her. His smile was twisted, maniacal. He stalked towards her, that arm limp and dragging heavily behind him._

"_I wonder… do you imagine this is why the madgod fought so valiantly for the sake of this world," he mused. "Perhaps because he felt some kinship with its inhabitants. You all seem to share his naïve delusions of righteousness. Struggling futilely against the inevitable. Hopelessly resisting the will of those who are superior to you. Yes, you do remind me of Sheogorath. Quite fitting, then, that you'll die the same way."_

_She had to get away. Chrysalis lifted a foreleg and tried to feebly drag herself across the floor. His energy still burned and twisted painfully through her body, and she feared that it would end up killing her even if she managed to escape. She did her best to ignore the pain, tried to ignore the clopping of hooves and the shriek of dragging claws. Inch by inch, she crawled towards the hive's exit. To freedom. To safety._

_A hand clamped down on her leg tighter than any manacle, and claws pierced through skin and muscle._

_She screamed, a ragged and empty cry of pure agony. The hand gripped tighter, and she was certain she felt talons scraping against bone. Then it was dragging her back so hard she almost expected her leg to be torn away. The blades withdrew; she was rolled harshly onto her back. She blinked up at Coldharbour through her tears as he loomed over her._

_She attempted to scramble out from beneath him, but his foreleg slammed down against her chest. She tried to push him off, but he was far too strong. He lay down on top of her, trapping her hind legs with his own. He lifted his foreleg, and she gasped in relief._

"_Give me your hooves," he ordered._

_Chrysalis was terrified. What was he going to do? Her lack of obedience seemed to anger him, and he cupped his hand over her shoulder._

"_Give me your hooves," he said again. "Or I will rip your legs from their sockets."_

_Trembling, she did as he said. Smirking, he crossed them over her chest and set his foreleg down again, pinning them._

"_Much better. I don't want you getting any foolish ideas like Sheogorath did."_

_He lifted his arm into the air, hand clenched with one finger pointing down. As she watched, the claw began to extend. It grew longer and longer, narrowing into a needle-thin point. He lowered it slowly, bringing it closer to her face. Her pupils shrank when it stopped just inches over her eye._

"_Please, don't-"_

_The talon stabbed down, puncturing her eye and piercing through. Chrysalis ground her teeth together as pain exploded in her skull. The pain vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by a frigid chill spreading through her._

_It felt as though she was pulling away from her body. Her vision dimmed, and then she was in a black void, surrounded by images and sounds from her life. They began to move, whipping around her in circles. It was like her mind was a giant filing cabinet, and now some invisible hand had yanked open the drawer and was rifling through her memories._

_Suddenly he was beside her, and Chrysalis shied back in fright. Coldharbour looked at her for a moment, dismissed her, and then lifted a hoof. The images froze in place, the sounds muted. _

_One of them formed in the black. She saw herself, lost and alone, as she stumbled into Equestria. She relived those horrible, desperate moments when she moved from town to town, feeding on anypony she could reach. The fear of her prey, her own ravenous hunger. Worst of all was that presence alongside her, examining her most private memories and taking them for his own purposes._

_She tried to push him away, tried to mentally close her memories and force him out of her mind. It was no use. He brushed away her resistance and brought up another memory, then another. She cried and begged soundlessly as he watched her capture and meeting with Celestia._

_She couldn't take it, couldn't bear to watch her memories being stolen and violated this way. She wanted to distance herself, and tried to think of somewhere, anywhere that she could go to be away from him. To her surprise, she found herself pulled deeper into the void, following what looked like a slim ribbon of glowing smoke._

_A light breeze stirred against her cheek, and then voices began to whisper from the black, mournful and weary._

"_**We do not die. We do not fear death. Destroy the Body, and the Animus is cast into The Darkness. But the Animus returns."**_

_The whispers came from everywhere, over her shoulders, under her hooves. Up ahead, she saw a field of pale smoke churning about. Breath quickening, she allowed herself to be pulled further. Even this was better than with him._

"_**But we are not all brave. We feel pain, and fear it. We feel shame, and fear it. We feel loss, and fear it. We hate the Darkness, and fear it."**_

_Images whirled up and around her. She watched through his eyes as he passed over a strange new world filled with creatures unlike any she had ever seen, pale things that walked upon two legs. She watched him snare and defile one of their women, her screams carried off by the wind. She watched as the woman passed into death, only to rise from her funeral pyre, body still aflame as she tore out the throats of her mourners._

_Chrysalis turned away, and another image rose up. She was in a vast shrine, looking down from on high as one of the creatures called up to her beseechingly. His skin was pallid as a corpse, his cheeks sunken, his eyes dull._

"_**So, you do not enjoy the blood-hunger, little leech. Do you miss the warmth of the sun? I can obtain the cure for you, but you will help me first."**_

_She was in a forest now. Two men stood beside a gravestone, a rusty mace lying between them. Tears on his cheeks and eyes narrowed in hate, one of them snatched up the mace and caved in the other's skull. The body crumpled to the ground, then vanished in a flash of light. As the clearing filled with hideous laughter, the man collapsed to his knees and sobbed._

_Another flash of light. She was in a dark and moldy cellar. An altar stood before her, and a cage of spikes. Within the cage was an old man, his body rent with wounds, his spirit broken._

"_**You bend to me?**_

"_Yes!"_

"_**You pledge your soul to me?"**_

"_Yes!"_

"_**You forsake the weak and pitiful Boethiah?"**_

"_Yes!"_

"_**You're mine now, Logrolf."**_

_Images began to fly around her faster and faster. She saw a dark castle upon the water, forms huddled beside a campfire, a woman locked away for centuries. She saw figures in armour launching bolts from their crossbows, saw blood spurting from open wounds and the sun blocked out by an eclipse. She caught a brief, shadowed glimpse of what might be Coldharbour's true and terrible form._

_She had to get away from here. She turned back the way she came, and found herself facing another image. It was a man with golden eyes, his white hair speckled with blood. He was lying on his back, pinned to the earth by a massive spear. One of his hands was ripped away, the other impaled by a spike of wood. A hand came into view, poised over his face, and she watched as a single claw drove down and into his eye._

_Desperate not to see any more, she threw herself into the black, far from the images and the trailing ribbon of smoke. As she fell, she saw one last image above her. It was a tiny, baby dragon, sleeping atop a pile of ashes. A unicorn filly stood beside him, her smile one of parental fondness. The image began to blur around the edges, until only the dragon was visible._

"_**Alduin is mine,"**__ she heard a voice hiss from the darkness. __**"As is the world to which he has fled."**_

_There was a clenching sensation in her stomach, a sharp pain in her skull, and then she was back in her throne room. Coldharbour was still on top of her, his claw still in place. But the unicorn's eyes were rolled back into his head as if he were in a trance, and a small burst of hope formed in her heart._

_He was distracted! Still looking through her memories, she guessed. This might be her only chance… but what could she do?_

_She slowly lowered her head; the claw remained still pierced her, but his hand was limp and allowed itself to be pulled along. She stopped when her horn was leveled at the unicorn's neck, its tip only inches from his skin. She considered ramming it up and tearing his throat wide-open. But no, she was too weak to put any power behind the strike._

_Her magic was similarly useless. With that poisonous energy still twisting through her blood, the pain was too great to concentrate effectively. If only she could get rid of it._

_Her eye widened. Wait. Maybe that was the answer! She couldn't process and use Coldharbour's power, but perhaps she could channel it?_

_She had no other options. She knew that he would kill her the moment he found what he wanted. Her time was almost up._

_Fighting against the pain, she willed herself to concentrate. Bit by bit, the vile life-force began moving up her body, pushed along by her own magic. The pain dissipated as she gathered the energy into her horn. A bright light built up around it, so great that even closing her eye couldn't block its glare._

_Her head seemed to be splitting in two from the strain of holding it in check. She could feel the energy writhing and pulsing through her horn like some monstrous living thing, and she feared that it would shatter before she could finish. Struggling to remain calm, Chrysalis focused her own magic, building it up for the strongest blast she could manage._

_As if sensing the magic, his eyes snapped open, the silver orbs staring down at her in surprise. She bared her teeth up at him in a snarl._

"_Get out of my hive!"_

_With all her remaining strength, she loosed her magic. For a moment the emerald light merely crashed against the foreign energy, but then Coldharbour's energy began to move, pushed forwards faster and faster until it was launched from her horn like a crossbow bolt._

_The attack was massive, a beam of solid energy that lanced into Coldharbour just at the base of his neck. She had a brief glimpse of his face contorting in pain as his own power was used against him. Then the claw ripped free from her eye as he was blasted into and through the wall of her hive, then launched out into the open air. The beam tapered down and vanished, and she panted for breath, her body aching in relief now that it was free of his poison._

_She wanted to stay like that forever, but the hive was burning down before her eyes, and she knew there wasn't much time left. Rolling painfully onto her stomach, she planted her hooves and began to crawl. It was easier this time, and she pushed herself to move faster as flames licked up the walls and cinders rained from the ceiling like confetti._

_The tunnels were still aflame, but the main entrance, the one that monster had arrived through was still clear, and she crawled towards it frantically. She choked on the smoky air, her eyes watering, mouth parched. She was not going to die here! Not after surviving an encounter with that… thing. The roof was collapsing; pieces of flaming debris fell all around, striking her back and flanks. She kept going._

_She could feel the cool air against her face, and she pulled herself from the entrance before the hive fell inward. In the clearing ahead, several hundred of her people milled about in confusion and fear. She tried to call out to them, but her throat locked, and she collapsed on the grass in exhaustion._

_Shouts filled the air, and then she was being gently lifted by numerous hooves and carried away from the heat of the fires. There was so much she had to know. How many survived? Were they alright? What had become of Coldharbour?_

_But all that could wait. Right now, all she wanted to do was rest. Safely in the hooves of her subjects, Chrysalis allowed herself to drift off into unconsciousness._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

He trod an arrow-straight path through the forest, smashing through underbrush and veering around trees. Birds and beasts scattered at his approach, huddling out of sight or stampeding deeper into the woods. He paid them no mind. His eyes were fixed ahead, to where he knew a shining city rose up from the side of a mountain. This princess, Celestia, would know of Alduin's whereabouts. Of that he was certain.

He was no longer unsure of his course. It was as simple as backtracking along the very path that Chrysalis had led her changelings when they departed this land.

His lip curled into a sneer at the thought of her. He thought he'd learned his lesson from the madgod, had fully restrained her limbs so there would be no desperate attacks while he worked. Unfortunately, he hadn't known that these damnable creatures channeled magic through their horns.

A hoof rubbed at his chest. That had been unpleasant. He was so confident nothing in this world could pose a threat, had thought nothing of forcing so much energy down her throat that she nearly drowned in it. But then the little tramp had the gall to throw his power back in his face, had nearly blown a hole right through him, in fact! And if that wasn't enough, he'd broken just about all of his bones in the fall.

It was sheer luck that he'd found what he was searching for before she struck. It would have been unacceptable to come away empty-handed. Still, despite his success, all he could feel was anger. Because she had resisted him; had dared to strike him. Not that it mattered much, in the end. She must have burned to death along with her home, and he only hoped that changeling bitch heard her skin frying before she died.

The day passed into night, and he continued on. His eyes shone in the darkness, his hooves pounding against the ground.

Coldharbour paused at the edge of a clearing, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected sight. A city built upon and of clouds hung in the sky above. Beneath it, the forest continued on, though its trees gradually thinned until they gave way to low, grassy hills. A town lay in the distance; he could see the faint outline of houses.

He looked between the two settlements, appraising the size of each building and comparing it to the room he had seen in Sheogorath's mind. The smaller hamlet he disregarded immediately; it was far too small. The cloud city, on the other hand, looked to contain a number of likely buildings. But he had no means of reaching it aside from a levitation spell, and he didn't want to risk more attention at this point.

On a whim, he decided to stay there for the night. He would inquire about the dragon and the unicorn once morning arrived. Even if he learned nothing more, it might prove beneficial to spend more time amongst these ponies, to better imitate their mannerisms and customs. His disguise had already failed once. He had no intention of letting it do so again.

He took one last glance up at Cloudsdale, then turned and galloped towards the sleeping town.

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Alright, that takes care of that. With any luck, I'll be able to juggle all three stories better in the near future, and we won't be seeing four month stretches between updates. Hope everyone enjoyed, and see you all next time!


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